Beyond the Proposal
by sheffers
Summary: With a week to go to the big wedding, things were supposed to be set in stone but even if the invites have been sent out and the security procedures are in place, there are still other things that can cause more than a little chaos. Full summary inside.
1. Prologue

Beyond the Proposal

Summary: With a week to go to the big wedding, things were supposed to be set in stone but even if the invites have been sent out and the security procedures have been put in place, there are still other things that can cause more than a little chaos before Ginny walks down the aisle to become Mrs Potter. Join the Weasley family as the drama unfolds.

Prologue

As we seek to rebuild  
And remember what has been lost  
We understand  
We appreciate  
What love can be  
How it helps  
That is why  
We hope you say yes  
And be our guests  
As we become bonded  
And enter on the next great adventure  
On our wedding day

Mr and Mrs Arthur Weasley wish to invite you to the wedding between their daughter Ginevra Molly and Harry James Potter that takes place on Friday, 1st September 2000 at two o'clock in the afternoon at The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole.

_5__th__ March 2000_

_Dear Hermione,_

_Since you helped choose the invites, saying how pretty they looked and went through numerous drafts of poor poetry, I figured I'd deface yours with a note, just like all the screwed up poems that got thrown in the bin. At least this is better than that Valentine's Day one, though. Got to fight the formality and plans somehow, despite how pathetic it is to take out your frustrations on an invite, so I had to scribble some nonsense on a few of them. Besides, as a bridesmaid, you don't really need an invite. We'll see you there as well as at the rest of the chaos as we get everything ready for the circus. As predicted, this wedding is definitely going to be more for my mum than us._

_Love,  
_

_Ginny_

14th March 2000

Dear Luna,

Not sure in which country the owl will find you with this message. It's always interesting to get your owls back; the last one from Laos was very interesting. Are there really all those animals in the Mekong? But wherever you are, I know that you will find a way to get back, especially since I'm pretty sure Ginny is going to want to you to walk down that aisle behind her. If she's not asked you to be a bridesmaid yet, I'm sure she will soon. Floo us soon and make sure you are over in plenty of time for the fun to really get going; you know what the Weasleys are like.

Harry

_15__th__ March 2000_

_Dear Neville,_

_Hope you can take the day off from school, even if it's the first day back for you. After all, it's just the opening feast you'll be missing and I'm sure McGonagall will let you off. The feast is really not that important and I think she's not as much of a stickler for the rules as we used to think at school. She really is a softly, eh? Just guilt trip her, okay? We could not imagine the day without you, especially when you have been there for me so many times. Can't imagine one of my 'brothers' (even if it is the honorary one) missing this day. You helped us get there just by keeping me sane and telling me Harry was okay. It meant the world. Hope Hannah is good, and all is still great between the two of you. I still find it highly amusing that a Hogwarts professor lives above a pub. Aren't you lot supposed to be respectable and the like? But then again, you're not really like the typical professor, either. Look after yourself, okay, and we both look forward to seeing you there._

_All my love,  
_

_Ginny_

24th August 2000

Ron,

Just so you don't feel left out, here's your invite. Not that you haven't been complaining in a loud voice that, with just over a week left to go, you haven't got one yet. Best men don't tend to get invites - it's kinda assumed you'll be there. Especially since you've been there for all the fun and games already and I think they are only going to get more interesting. Besides, it's the best man's job to see this through to the end.

Harry

P.S. Ginny wrote the poem so don't rib me over it! Take it out on her instead.


	2. Molly Weasley and the Reluctant Daughter

Chapter One: Molly Weasley and the Reluctant Daughter

Disclaimer: All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

Molly moved around the seating plans as she looked them over again. She was having a serious problem trying to work out at which table to put Muriel. She couldn't put her near to Arthur's uncle Alfred, not after the sprout debate of 1970 — she did not want another family function to be overtaken by flying food. Nor could she put her at the same table as Augusta Longbottom, the two old witches would definitely cackle up trouble, and it would be unwise, with her outspoken opinions, to put her anywhere near Dudley Dursley, especially after that boy had been brave enough to say that he would come. Poor Harry's cousin and his girlfriend were going to be the only Muggles at the wedding and, after Bill and Fleur's wedding, it would not be wise to put her near Elphias Doge. Not that her daughter, the bride-to-be, was helping solve these problems much at all. Especially when her last words on the topic had been just to not invite her and everyone else if this kept going on.

Her daughter was very very reluctant when it came to discussing the wedding, especially when it came to where to place Muriel. No, that wasn't quite right — her daughter was just not interested in planning the wedding at all. And that lack of interest was growing yet further with every week that passed. This was the complete opposite of the last wedding she had been involved in planning. Fleur had been fully involved in her wedding, planning every detail until well into the night at times. Ginny, however, had no interest in the seating plans; she was often late to the wedding dress fittings and rolled her eyes at the caterers. Instead, she was rushing off with Harry, playing Quidditch and doing anything else that would help her hide from the preparations.

It was almost as if Ginny did not care about the actual day itself, as shown by her threat last week to elope.

Just last weekend Ginny had arrived late to the family dinner after an extra Quidditch training session prompted by the Holyhead Harpies' defeat to the Falmouth Falcons. Her daughter had not been in a good mood to start with on her arrival; apparently the session had not gone well at all and she was nursing several nasty cuts and bruises from the practice, and the discussion of further wedding plans had led to a full explosion of her temper with cries that she was not a child; she just acted like one when she proceeded to tell everyone that she did know how to plan her own wedding and that her plan was to elope. She had finished the argument with sparks flying from the tip of her wand and her hair blazing behind her as she had Apparated out of The Burrow with Harry in her wake.

It had taken a whole day before she had turned back up, no doubt staying at Harry's while she calmed herself down, with an apology and a promise that she was not actually going to elope, saying firmly that she would still let her mother be part of her wedding and that she did understand how much it meant to her. She clearly stated as well that she would not let her temper get the better of her and act like a twelve-year-old again.

Molly was reserving judgment on those claims until after the wedding. She knew her daughter only too well and how quickly that temper could flare.

Frowning slightly, she moved Muriel to table five. She was positive that Muriel would not be too happy about being so far away from the head table but at least she would not upset too many of the other guests. She gave everything one last scan before she left the plans lying on the kitchen table and went to check the chicken in the oven. It was already six o'clock and, as normal for a Sunday, all her family would be here for dinner within the next hour. The frown disappeared instantly as she checked on the carrots. They would all be here soon enough and even Charlie was coming home in a couple of days.

There was still nothing that beat getting them all together. It had been so long since the last time she'd had all of them here, and then they were still in the depths of mourning.

She was getting them all back, both Percy and Charlie included, for a happy occasion for the first time since the Quidditch World Cup finals in England and she knew, wherever Fred was now, he would not miss the day. She was going to have all her children back at The Burrow for the first time in so long, too long.

Ron and Hermione were the first to arrive for dinner, just five minutes later, shortly followed by Bill and Fleur who was holding sixteen-week-old Victorie and the meal was put on hold while they gushed over her first grandchild. The small child with her pale blonde hair was simply perfect, inheriting all the best qualities of both her parents. Added to that, Bill had commented, with a slightly smug grin, that she was such a peaceful child and barely cried. Percy brought his new girlfriend, the very timid Audrey, who wanted to meet the family before the actual wedding day instead of just being thrown into the lions' den, while they were looking back over the seating plans. She used Fleur's suggestion and moved Muriel to a different table for the eighth time today, this time back to table four in place of Augusta Longbottom. She struggled to resist a sigh, wondering how it was that her daughter-in-law was getting more involved in the wedding plans than her daughter, the bride.

George, with Angelina, arrived just as they were moving the plates outside for dinner, barely five minutes before Ginny and Harry. Normally, Ginny was the first to arrive since she still technically lived at The Burrow, not that she slept in her own bed too often these days, and last night had proved no exception to that rule as she had carried out the pretence of staying at Hermione's house after the Holyhead Harpies' high-scoring victory over the Montrose Magpies, since both she and Harry had the whole day off.

Molly hid her own smile as she watched the pair of them together. It was amazing how many times Ginny had not been able to make it back to The Burrow recently and had to 'crash at Hermione's flat', holding the full pretence that she was not spending the time with Harry. But Molly knew her daughter better. And not only that, she knew what it was like to be in love with days to go to a wedding. Her daughter's behaviour in this aspect was just like her own, all those years ago, before her own wedding when she had told her parents she was staying at a friend's. She had told her own parents that she had been staying up talking to Jane Parker, just before her and Arthur's elopement, when she had not managed to make it back to her parents' house.

She glanced over at the young couple again. Ginny had her hands tightly tucked in Harry's as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, not caring who saw them. Not that her daughter cared who saw them, much to her own embarrassment, as _Witch Weekly_ this morning had had a photo of the pair of them taken kissing rather passionately just outside the Harpies' changing rooms yesterday with a nonsense article written by Rita Skeeter underneath. Still dressed in her green and gold Holyhead Harpies' mud-coated robes, she was holding on tightly to Harry's Auror robes with one hand and sending a two fingered salute at the winged camera with the other. This was something that Molly made a mental note that she still needed to have a serious conversation with Ginny about; there was no excuse for that behaviour. Today they were kissing just as passionately, Harry's hand tucking Ginny tightly to him. Ginny seemed to care as little as she had done about the photograph in _Witch Weekly_, as she just shrugged at the jeers and loud gagging noise that her brothers were making. Harry, though, did look suitably embarrassed as he ended the kiss and looked over at the rest of his adopted family.

"Hi, Mrs Weasley," Harry called, as he dropped her daughter's hand and came over to greet her. His face, bless him, was still slightly pink. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Molly beamed at him; Harry had been much less reluctant when it came to the plans. He was just like the Harry she had welcomed into her house as a twelve-year-old, just doing what he could to help. Although, she was forced to admit, maybe Harry had taken that approach to appease her, and because he had not been asked to be involved in as many discussions as Ginny had. All Harry had left to do, now that he had been fitted for his robes and written his vows, was just to be there on the day.

"Don't worry about it, Harry dear." She continued to smile at him. "It's all been planned; just make sure you're there on Friday."

Harry tucked his hand back in Ginny's, leading her over closer to her mother. "Wouldn't dream of missing it, Mrs Weasley," he turned to smile at Ginny, "not for the world."

"I know," she said, knowing that Harry would never do anything to hurt her daughter intentionally, "and it's 'Molly', dear," she reminded him again.

"Yes, Molly," Harry said with a blush, the poor boy could never seem to drop the Mrs Weasley tag with her without suitable levels of embarrassment.

"Hey, Mum," Ginny cried as she broke hold of Harry and kissed her mother on the cheek. "How are you?"

"Fine, dear," she replied as she led Ginny to the kitchen. "I trust you slept well on Hermione's settee last night," she slipped in slyly, causing Ginny's face to flush bright red, matching her hair for a moment, before she went back to the real thing she needed to talk about. "I just want you to look over these seating plans."

The look in Ginny's eyes changed as she glanced over the seating plans. Her daughter could be an exceptional actress at times, protesting her way out of trouble on many an occasion, but her eyes were different, they were always so full of emotion. Right now, those bright brown eyes were glaring, making it very clear with just a single look with what disdain she held the seating plans. A mother always knew the places to look to detect her children's lies or moods and with Ginny that was always in the eyes.

"Seating plans again," Ginny moaned, already breaking last week's promise about not acting like a child. "Do I really have too? We've already looked at them at least two dozen times in the last month."

It really was amazing how quickly Ginny could turn into a moaning child when she wanted. She would pout and sulk or let her temper get the better of her, throwing a tantrum. It was sometimes very hard not to see her as a child, especially at times like this.

And it was already hard enough to believe that her baby was old enough to get married.

Even if it was to Harry.

She knew she couldn't have asked for anyone better for Ginny to marry. They had come a long way since the childish crush and the dreadful events in the Chamber of Secrets. She had watched them grow and known that this day would come for a long time, ever since she had been positive they were falling in love during the year they were forced apart. Harry had done everything he could to protect her, while Ginny, despite the many protests not to, had done everything she could in Harry's name even when she had carried that haunted look in her eyes. You had only to watch Ginny's broken face once to know she had been falling in love. The next year was a whirlwind, as they recovered together before making up for lost time. Since Ginny had left Hogwarts, she had spent so much time with Harry she may as well have moved out of The Burrow as her brothers had done.

Molly had known this day was coming for so long.

She knew that Harry was good for Ginny and how well suited they were and how happy he made her.

But still…

Ginny was her little girl and had always been her youngest. It was hard to see her as anyone else. It had been hard to see her leaving Hogwarts. Then it had been even harder to see her playing professional Quidditch. She had already been hurt so many times, picking up the numerous injuries the dangerous sport led to. This, if anything, was harder still; this was the final proof that her last child had grown up and was leaving the family home just as her brothers had done before her.

Molly had always expected to hold onto Ginny for some time, but she was going to be the youngest of her children to be married, before many of her brothers. She was still a teenager and barely of age.

After a lot of help from Harry, including several low whispers that Molly could not make out, Ginny came over to the table. She sat for a whole ten minutes, showing a remarkable level of patience for her, looking over the plans. Ginny had never been a patient child, wanting to run before she could walk so she could catch up with her brothers, demanding to go to Hogwarts as soon as she had learnt the word and barely sitting still for two minutes. Her daughter enjoyed being in the heat of the action too much for patience.

Maybe that was why she found the wedding plans so boring and was so reluctant to take part in them, not enough action.

Discussion over wedding plans moved Aunt Muriel again, this time to table six, on the same table as Harry's boss, Simon Holden, at the Auror offices, and Molly had no doubt the elderly witch would be moved again at least a dozen times before Friday. The plans were shelved briefly while dinner was served as Ginny had scoffed that, heaven forbid, they would spill something over the plans and they would have to start again.

Sarcasm was really not her daughter's best quality.

The tables heaved under food. Many people laughed at the amount of food that Molly would make on these occasions, but she knew her family, and each of her children had very healthy appetites. She could put down enough food to feed fifty, and it would still all be eaten and with her family growing by the day, she had already needed Arthur to put several strengthening charms on the old tables. She wouldn't have it any other way.

With the Weasley family finally settled and the food out, the conversation turned back to the wedding again. Fleur, who had set down Victoire upstairs with a charm to alert them if she cried, had now begun to ask questions about the day, from wanting to know from what she could do to help to the colour scheme that would be used so she could coordinate her outfit.

"So, Ginny," George called to draw Ginny's attention and she skipped easily away from the conversation. "How's the training going? How's the new signing?"

"Good." A grin filled her face as she was more than happy for the change in conversation. "It's still a shame Rachel had to leave, but Isla is settling in well and is a really great Seeker. She could be just what we need."

Molly had to hide another sigh.

Quidditch again.

It really was all her family seemed to talk about at times, especially since Ginny had joined the Holyhead Harpies. They could spend hours talking about the sport, going over some of the finest details without any need for a break from the topic. She often wished that there could be other conversations held, especially with a wedding around the corner, but then this was her family and if she changed the Quidditch talk, she would be losing something that made them her family.

"I've not put my bet on for the season yet," George explained as he studied his sister's face, "so, you'd be worth a couple of Galleons this year?"

Her grin grew. "We stand a decent chance," she shot back at him with a look that challenged him and nearly made him back down instantly, "but, George, would you have really bet against me?"

George laughed and Molly loved hearing that laugh so much after so many months of missing it last year. "I put my money where I'm going to get a return."

Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny. "I'd always put my money on you."

"You're biased." She playfully swatted his arms.

"Yeah, and you're not exactly poor, mate. You can throw money away if you want," Ron chimed in.

"Who's your money going on, Ron?" Ginny asked flashing him an innocent smile, a smile that Molly knew only too well.

You did not challenge Ginny when she looked like that. It still amazed her, in fact, that her brothers would take it in turns to rise to Ginny's bait. They really should know better by now. They had been on the wrong end of enough hexes and she had received enough Ministry owls about it while she was still underage.

"The Cannons," Ron said back in a defensive tone.

"Talk about blind loyalty," Ginny scoffed, "as well as throwing your money away."

"Just make sure you get your money down this year," George said, "it's going to be Ginny's last year on the team."

"What?" Ginny spat out.

"Well, you are aware you're turning into Mum: married straight out of Hogwarts, the long line of kids will follow yet," George teased.

"I'm not married straight out of Hogwarts," she hit back defensively.

"Not much longer, you're only just nineteen, much younger than the rest of us, and walking down that aisle much sooner, and would have been married even sooner, like seven months ago, if you weren't for planning of the massive event. I mean, if you'd got your way, the wedding would have been the day after the proposal, but you waited because of Mum's cries for a real wedding," George continued to tease, "mark my words, you'll be sprogged up soon."

Ginny glared at him and threatened to reach for her wand.

Molly struggled to hide her laugh as George continued to tease his sister. It was just like both Fabian and Gideon had teased her before her wedding at just eighteen, and then they had continued to tease in such fashion as each of her children came and now it was her little baby's turn to get married.

She continued to watch as Ginny threw around banter with her brothers, while keeping her body intertwined with her boyfriend, breaking away from the conversation only to kiss Harry. Maybe her daughter was not completely reluctant.

She seemed more than happy to be joining herself to Harry.


	3. Ron Weasley and the Hospital Visit

Chapter Two: Ron Weasley and the Hospital Visit

Disclaimer: All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

Ron couldn't help but laugh as he arrived on the ward at St. Mungo's.

He had just received Harry's stag Patronus asking him to come and discharge him after being on the wrong end of a hex while out doing some field work. Although his best friend spoke little about his work, he was very professional in that aspect, after Ron had left the department last year to go to work with George, he had picked up little bits. From what he could tell, Harry was coming close to catching the elusive Rodolphus Lestrange, who had been on the run since the Battle of Hogwarts, which was taking him into increasingly dangerous booby-trapped places.

He had entered the pristine hospital ward just in time to see Harry arguing with the young Healer in charge that he should just be able to discharge himself, since he was rather busy at the moment, and since there was nothing wrong, he did not have time to lie in a hospital bed. It was a Healer who both Harry and Ron had met many times before and, rather than helping Harry's case, it seemed to be working against him.

Finally, a good five minutes after Ron had entered the ward, the Healer seemed to give in on the argument, shaking his head before heading back to his desk at the end of the ward. He buried himself in the paperwork that sat as small mountains in three trays. No wonder the Healer was not responding well to Harry's arguments; he looked as if he had enough on his plate without getting into heated discussions with his patients.

Ron wasn't surprised about Harry either. His best mate was hardly known for his patience when it came to sitting back and letting others do what he saw as his job. As soon as the spells had been cast to cure the injuries that he picked up, he wanted to be back up and back to the fight. Some things about Harry just never changed and they never would.

Still, it was always amusing to see him forced to lie in bed; it was so much against his nature, especially at the moment. Harry had enough things to get done this week without trips to the wizarding hospital.

Ron made his way up the ward and grinned.

It was just the other night that both Harry and Ginny had assured his mother that nothing was going to happen before the wedding. They insisted that they would not give up their 'dangerous' careers before the wedding, nor would they be doing so afterward. They had even made several promises to Molly Weasley that nothing would happen to them so she had no need to worry.

"Ginny is going to kill you, you know," he said, fighting to hold back the laughter. "She hates being wrong when it comes to arguments, especially when it's an argument with Mum, and it looks like she just lost this one."

"No, she's not."

Harry sounded fairly confident.

Too confident.

He hated it when Harry sounded that confident. It normally meant that he was right and Ron was wrong but still, the odds surely had to stack in his favour today. Harry was in the hospital bed and he was on the other side of it. Surely he had a little more going for him this time.

"You're in St Mungo's four days before the wedding. You promised Mum you'd be just fine. Ginny even laughed it off and now she's been proved wrong," Ron continued, struggling to keep his face straight. It was hard not to find this amusing. The Boy-Who-Lived was lying in a hospital bed. The hero of the wizarding world who was scared of both his mum and sister. "She's going to string you from the ceiling."

"She won't." Harry smiled. "Not after I kept her black eye from Saturday's match a secret so your Mum wouldn't blow at her."

"How did Ginny get a black eye?" Ron asked, distracted for a moment.

Harry's grin grew and he even let out a small laugh. "I think it had something to do with hanging upside down to catch a Quaffle a hundred feet in the air with a Bludger coming in the opposite direction. Luckily, the photo next morning showed her fingers and not her face. Otherwise, it would be her strung from the ceiling of The Burrow. Not that your Mum didn't nearly string her up over the fingers."

Ron echoed Harry's laugh, and it filled the quiet, still, white hospital ward. Barely into her second season as a professional Quidditch player, Ginny had already picked up multiple injuries due to her uncompromising style of play. Her work effort, persistence and bravery was second to none, even when she had been struggling to adapt in the first few games from the school game to the professional game. She insisted on being involved in every move and threw herself into any tackle on the pitch, leading to her talent starting to shine through with the more time she spent on the Quaffle. Now that she was starting to make a name for herself and was on the verge of earning international recognition, she was being targeted by many more Bludgers. It was a wonder she did not finish each game black and blue.

No wonder Harry wasn't worried about Ginny seeing him in St. Mungo's. Ginny had had her fair share of injuries. The pair of them had been in and out of hospital enough times to warrant their own private wing, in the last year. It was rare for a couple of weeks to go by without one of them making a trip down to St. Mungo's. In fact, Harry had actually proposed to her after she was lying in a bed at St Mungo's after a Bludger to the head, a fact that had amused everyone in the family, except his mother, for a long time after. They were still known to make jokes that that was the only reason that Ginny had said yes, because of her blow to the head.

However, it did beg the question that if Harry was not worried over Ginny's reaction, then why had he not sent his Patronus to her? He must be at least a little scared of that Weasley temper.

It always amused him that Harry, the man who had defeated He Who Must Not Be Named, was scared of the women in his family. He would back Harry in a fight or an argument against anyone else, but he had seen Harry hide countless times from his mum, which was probably the sane approach knowing Molly Weasley's temper and Ginny, also, always seemed to get her way with Harry, just like as all Prewett women had for generations.

And with good reason. Along with brown eyes and red hair, Ginny had very much inherited her mother's temper.

Although he was not sure how much Ginny getting her way was completely down to her temper. He had witnessed many of Ginny's underhanded tactics in family Quidditch games and those tactics were far from the unleashing of a temper, either. Harry rarely ended up with a wand on him, so Ginny could get her way, unlike the rest of them, by using very unorthodox methods. Harry did normally end up with a rather smug grin after these tactics had been used, though.

He shook his head slightly. Even years after accepting his best friend and his little sister as a couple, there were still several details about their relationship he was very happy never to hear about. He didn't want to know in the slightest what caused Harry to smile like that, as he was sure that he would have to Scourgify his eyes and perform a Memory Charm if he did. It had to be the Weasley temper and nothing else that caused Ginny to get her way.

He guessed he was lucky that Hermione's parents were very passive Muggle dentists, who rarely raised their voices, let alone get caught up in family shouting rows. Not that Hermione needed any Weasley help at times.

"Harry!" Ginny burst through the door.

Ginny, still looking very windswept, and dressed in her mud splattered training gear — black-studded trainers, green knee-length socks and shorts, and green and yellow jacket with Weasley, 4, and the Holyhead Harpies badge on it — had sprinted down the ward. She had obviously come straight away without even taking time to get changed as the footprints on the floor showed — footprints that made the Healer frown. No doubt he thought that the young woman that had just entered his ward was going to, and already had added to the list of jobs that he had to do.

She rushed over to Harry's side and stared straight at him, looking into his eyes. Ron had discovered ages ago that it was fairly unnerving to watch them looking at each other. Both Harry and Ginny had no problem looking into each other's eyes and could stare like that for hours, communicating that way with daunting honesty.

Many would see it as brave to let someone else in like that, but then not many people had been through half as much as they had. They were much older than most people in some ways, even if not in age. Ron guessed that they had been through so much that words were unnecessary at times.

They really were meant for each other, even if had taken him a while and a lot of growing up to accept it. He thought it was just plain weird to see his little sister getting together with his best mate. He had been forced to admit that Ginny wasn't really that little anymore and Harry was a pretty decent bloke, so he guessed he couldn't really ask for more. If Ginny had to marry someone, he guessed he was pretty lucky it was Harry. It helped, too, that the two of them really seemed to be so well suited.

Ginny was one of the few people, maybe actually the only person, who could pull Harry out of his noble crusades, and match his temper. She was exactly what he needed; he was much less likely to be a noble prat around her and, as he had seen after Fred's death, Harry was one of the few people who could do the same for her. Ginny had gone into a deep mourning period after Fred's death, with no one seeming able to get through to her as she worked herself to near exhaustion. Many long chats with Harry had eventually put a stop to that. No one knew what was said, neither Harry nor Ginny ever spoke of it, it was too private for words, but the whole family was grateful. They couldn't have borne to have lost her too.

Like it or not, they really were equals. They were ready for the next step, ready to get married, despite what several of the recent publications had been saying in the wizarding world.

Ginny bent down to the bed and placed a soft kiss on Harry lips and Ron was very grateful that Harry chose not to deepen it. There was only so much a brother could take, and Ginny frequently teased those boundaries, quite often when she was very aware that her brothers were watching and the decent thing would be to stop.

"How are you?" Ginny asked in soft tones.

"I'm fine, I promise," he whispered as he smiled at her, "they reckon Ron's okay to get me discharged."

Harry face always looked so different when he smiled at Ginny. His face would light up and he would look completely, truly happy, as if he didn't have a care in the world. It was a feeling that Harry so rarely enjoyed; with his unwavering desire to recapture all the escaped Death Eaters, he was more often in the grim determination mood. Yet when he spent time with Ginny, no matter what else was happening, Harry just looked purely and simply happy.

Ron smiled to himself as well. How could he begrudge a relationship that did that to his best mate?

"Good, I'm glad you're going to be okay," Ginny said softly, before swatting him on his arm and hitting him again before then speaking in a louder voice, "You git!"

Ron's grin grew and he let Harry see it. He knew his sister only too well and knew that once she knew that he was okay she would show her temper. Ginny was so much like their mum at times it was scary, although no one was daring to make that comment to her at the moment, given the source of most of Ginny's temper explosions at the moment. Though no one could really blame her for that, not if they were sane anyway, the level of detail their mum insisted on was enough to drive anyone crazy.

"Told you," he mouthed to Ron.

"How could you land in here? Mum's going to give me no end of grief about this," she let out a frustrated sigh, "since no doubt this will be my fault!"

"Ginny…" Harry started.

"No 'Ginnying'," she cut him off and Ron let out a small laugh as he saw his sister's passionate temper start to rise. No doubt Harry wouldn't be in any real trouble, but it was always amusing to see someone else on the other side of her temper, "RON!"

Ginny had spun round and this time she had her wand out. Why was it, whenever Ginny was angry or annoyed with Harry, she never got her wand out unless she was really really angry, but with the rest of them she had no problem reaching for her wand? She had no problem at all in hexing one of her brothers over much less.

"Ginny," Harry stopped her going any further and yet again Ron was grateful to him; Harry was one of the few people who could stop Ginny once that temper had started to rise. "Imagine your mum's reaction if you put the best man in here; she's already determined that you're sabotaging your own wedding."

"I'm not…" Ginny started before stopping abruptly. "Bugger!"

"What?" the pair of them asked, equally confused at what had cut her off in mid flow.

"I had the final fitting today; it was supposed to start ten minutes ago but I forgot all about it when I got George's Patronus," she groaned. "Never mind you, she's going to kill me. After all, I'm the one corrupting her golden boy and can't even do what's needed to give him a decent wedding. Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!"

Harry laughed. "Do I get a final kiss to remember you by, then?"

Ginny grinned at Harry and Ron noticed that there was a familiar hint of mischief mixed in with the amber in her brown eyes. He had grown to hate that look on her. It never meant anything good for him, especially if she sent him one of those sweet innocent smiles she adopted or was sitting with George. He hated that look even more when she was near Harry; the consequences of the look were always much, much worse.

She leaned in and kissed Harry and less than seconds after it had started Ron knew this was not going to be a simple kiss. This was going to be one of their more passionate ones, a kiss that, in his opinion, should be reserved for private moments and not done in public — especially when he was nearby.

Ron made several loud gagging noises that he was only partly putting on. He really did not want to see this kiss develop into much more. At first Ginny just flipped him the rods while keeping the kiss going, but as he continued, slowly they broke apart, both glaring at him.

He smiled, despite the fact that Ginny was now reaching for her wand. He had got the desired outcome and knew just the thing to stop them kissing. Not that that was always a wise choice when both Harry and Ginny were so skilled with their wands. However, today was different, he had the advantage and knew just the thing to keep him from ending up in the bed next to Harry. Yes, he was actually quite happy with the outcome of that kiss.

"Ron," she growled.

Harry smiled and shrugged his shoulders; he was clearly not going to help Ron out here. "I think you've asked for this one, mate."

"Ginny, Mum..." Ron told her with a grin, and Ginny's wand started to lower, "…wedding dress fitting?"

"Damn it," she muttered. "You'll wait," she said, before turning to Harry. "I'll see you tonight, if I survive."

Ron smiled at Harry as his sister rushed out the hospital ward. Ginny must have been distracted if she had not offered any form of a threat and Ron quite understood that, too. He knew only too well that you did not go up against their mother unless you had good reason. It was shown quite clearly by the fact that none of them missed Sunday dinners at The Burrow or was even late to them unless they had a very good excuse.

"You ready to get out of here, mate?" Ron finally asked.

"Always."

"And since you don't need to go back to work, I mean, you have been to hospital, so I think you get the day off for that," Ron grinned and suggested, "how about a couple at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Sounds like a good idea."

Ron's grin grew slightly as he Accioed the release papers and started filling them in. "And you can tell me why I still got the call instead of Ginny."

"Oh, that's easy to answer. Ginny has enough on her plate at the moment." Harry grinned at him and continued, "She's going spare as it is with everything else, I didn't want to risk her real temper exploding."

"Well, it takes a brave, or at least a slightly insane, man to take her on," Ron laughed, "and I've always said you're mad for wanting to marry her."


	4. Ginny Weasley and the Final Fitting

Chapter Three: Ginny Weasley and the Final Fitting

_Disclaimer:_ All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

Ginny rushed through the halls in a blur, barely listening to the comments that followed her through the hall about the mess her still-muddy Quidditch boots were making. No doubt that would lead to her name being scorned and not help with the image certain people were building around her, but she really did not have time to worry about that other than to offer token phrases that she was sorry. She ran outside St. Mungo's and straight into the waiting reporters, not even respecting the fact that they were currently in Muggle London with the lack of precautions that they were showing. They really were worse than some of the scum in Azkaban these days, a group that was growing ever more rapidly as several more popping noises were heard as dozens of reporters Apparated to the spot, including Rita Skeeter.

Damn it!

They must have been following her yet again; she hated bloody reporters. Even more, she hated what seemed to be the newest game amongst them: Let's follow Ginny Weasley and watch her every movement so we can fill the gossip pages and write about how her misdemeanours meant that she was not good enough to be Harry's girlfriend, let alone his wife. When would they just get a life of their own and leave her to hers? Back-page headlines were one thing, but the front pages were another altogether. She didn't care how many newspapers and magazines it sold, she was just bloody sick of seeing her photograph on the front pages of newspapers with comments about her conduct.

She was more than a little tempted to hex them on sight, if only to stop them following her. It would be so tempting just to raise her wand and aim it at the reporters as if she was playing some zapping game. And, since she was in front of the wizarding hospital, they would not be left to suffer for too long — just long enough, maybe, for them to regret tracking her this intensely.

She found her hand reaching for her wand and thinking of several hexes that she could use, but before she could even tighten her grip, she stopped herself; it wasn't worth it and they weren't worth it, either. The headlines in tomorrow's pages would see to that.

"Ginny," Rita's words spoke first through the crowd of reporters, "what are you doing here?"

"No comment," she said in a well-rehearsed tone of voice as a flash from a camera went off.

Ginny had said 'no comment' so many times to reporters it was a wonder they had not got the hint yet. She had learnt early on that any other words could be twisted. Not that the reporters didn't have fun writing the phrase, 'Miss Weasley refused to comment leading to speculation that...' in their articles to back up their preposterous claims. She was not going to openly help them with these articles. She may sit down at Quidditch press conferences when she was expected to, but she was not going to tell them anything about her private life, especially the parts of her private life that involved Harry. There was a very good reason why that stayed private!

She couldn't help letting a small smile form on her lips, a smile that grew when more reporters asked questions about why she was here. She always did love it when she managed to get one over on them, especially after all the rubbish they printed.

They didn't seem to know about Harry, which was good. He was even worse at dealing with reporters and ending up on the front page of the newspapers than she was. At least when she had taken up a career as a Quidditch player, she had known that she was going to get attention, even if she had never imagined that it would be this bad. Quidditch players usually just hit the back pages but then, as she was constantly being told, she was not just your average Quidditch player. A fact that, at times, made it hard to get recognition as many a reporter, Rita Skeeter included, made clear in their articles that she was only in the team for her relationship with Harry and the press attention that that gave the Holyhead Harpies. Although it was going on into her second season, those articles were being greatly reduced with each passing match and the back pages just talked about her like any other player. Unfortunately, whether she liked it or even accepted it, the same could not be said for the front pages, although at least she had put herself in the limelight. Harry, however, had never wanted any of that, and done his best to stay away from it all, although he was often still regarded in the papers as the hero of the wizarding world who could do no wrong and he hated every word of it. He very much wanted their life to be kept quiet and, for the most part they managed it, or at least Harry did.

However, if the newspapers knew half of what Harry got up to in his private life, he would not be the golden boy and she would not be the one who was corrupting him, which would make a very nice change. But since her mum read all the articles that concerned her and Harry, and she already disapproved of so many of them, maybe it was much, much better that they didn't know all those details. Besides, she wanted to keep up the illusion that she was still innocent and perfectly entitled to wear a white dress on Friday. Not that it wouldn't be funny to see the reporters' faces and their headlines if she came out dressed in red. They would have a field day with the 'scarlet woman' comments, but since it would probably take several mediwizards to help her mother recover from her stroke, and no doubt the backlash would go further than that, it was not a good idea.

"And what about the fine that the Professional Quidditch Association gave you this morning, have you got any comment?" Rita pressed. She clearly wanted a quote she could twist or to see her temper flare again. She would get a good by-line on a story like that especially with days to go to the wedding. "I believe it was two weeks' wages, wasn't it, for your actions at the weekend?"

"No comment," she growled again.

This had been grating against her all day. She had played the match at the weekend, scoring fourteen goals, talked to the press as requested and signed autographs. She had done everything that was asked of her before going to meet Harry, but those damn reporters and photographers just could not leave them alone. No wonder she had sworn at them. She had actually been amazed at her restraint; these reporters at times were lucky that they didn't end up on the other end of hexes.

Not that that had helped her case this morning. She had been hauled up in front of the Professional Quidditch Association, yet again, for bringing the game into disrepute before facing the same dressing down from both her manager, Hope Johnson, and the Holyhead Harpies legendary captain, Gwenog Jones. Apparently, she was becoming a public figure and needed to learn to behave as such, even if she thought that she had behaved reasonably well. When you were a role model, scoring goals and having good games were not enough, as Johnson had told her at length. A role model for little girls should not be seen openly swearing, no matter the provocation. Or so she had been told.

"What do you think about the comments that you should be banned?" Rita continued without pausing for breath. "Or maybe just a suspension until your behaviour befits that of a professional Quidditch player?"

"No comment."

"Well, do you really believe yourself to be a suitable wife for the hero of the wizarding world?" Rita was not getting the hint or, more likely, she was trying to get her temper to snap so she had another article for the front pages of the newspapers. "Surely he deserves someone better."

"Look..." She stared at the older woman and felt her hand reach for her wand and this time her fingers did tighten around it; she wanted to hex her so badly right now. She had to get out of there before she did something stupid and lost her temper. "I'm busy and I'm late, so just leave me alone to get on with things. I happen to be getting married on Friday and there's still a lot to do."

With that, she closed her eyes, spun on the spot and Apparated out of there. She really did not want to be tested any further and she found it grossly unfair that Harry, who had a temper to match her own, never got brought up for it in the news. He was their hero and she would never be good enough for him in the eyes of some people. They wanted Harry for themselves, so why would they want Harry with her? And that was exactly what Rita was now using to sell her articles.

Bugger her!

It was a wonder, with all this and her mother's attitude to her marriage, that she had not been lying in St Mungo's herself. Soon enough, surely, she would lose it completely and end up in a bed next to Harry. The idea of eloping had been a joke at first; Harry had first suggested it as a way to calm her down after she had paced around his living room ranting, but it was getting more tempting by the day. If the wedding was any later than Friday, surely she wouldn't make it. Friday really couldn't come soon enough, when they would get all this mayhem out of the way.

She took several deep breaths, trying and failing to calm down. It did no good to get herself into this state, especially with the reporters no doubt following her. Thank Merlin that she had decided to have her hen night away from it all in Muggle London. Finally, she reopened her eyes and looked up to see herself in the centre of Diagon Alley.

As the popping noise came from behind her, she found any anger that she had let die away come back. Without turning around, she pushed open the door to the nearest shop and saw Hermione standing in the centre of it.

At last she could let some of the pent up anger out — anger at reporters, the Professional Quidditch Association and her mother, without it ending up on the front page of the newspaper, fined yet more wages or being forced to apologise yet again. Hermione knew her only too well, and she had had to deal with Harry's temper too; she'd be safe blowing now.

"That Skeeter cow!" Ginny fumed to Hermione as they walked into the bridal shop in Diagon Alley, pulling off Quidditch gloves. "I swear I'm going to find a nice new hex to use on her when I get home tonight and then I'm going to hex her into next week."

"Ginny," Hermione started as she made her way over towards her friend, using those calming tones in her voice again.

"Don't "Ginny', me!" she spat as she threw her gloves down onto the floor near Hermione's bag. "She should have just stayed as a bug, kept in a jar."

"That would hardly be fair," she said, but despite Hermione's words there was a clear smile on her face from the memory. "You just need a bit of patience when it comes to her."

"She wore all that out and I think I've actually been very good on that front, considering how much I hate being patient!" She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and started to undo the straps for the pads on her arms. "Between her, the press in general, and my family, my patience has gone." She threw one pad on top of her gloves, and started to work at the pad on her other arm. "Why isn't Harry getting all this grief?"

"Because Harry's the hero of Britain, they respect that," Hermione explained in a well-practiced voice as Ginny found herself groaning. It always sounded worse out loud than in her head. "And as for the rest, you're your mum's only daughter. She was always going to make a bit of a fuss."

"A bit of a fuss? A bit of a fuss does not spend three hours on seating plans every bloody Sunday, besides other things like spending six hours the other night going through the menu that was planned weeks ago. I swear, all she thinks about is that damn wedding and she thinks it's all I should think about, too. I mean, it's just a day; there are other things to life. Surely it's better to focus on the other things that come after it." She frowned, throwing the other pad to the floor, changing the subject; she was not going to win this argument with anyone. "Where's Luna anyway?"

"Since you were running late," Hermione said as she gestured to the curtains at the end of the room, "she went through for her final fitting first. Where were you, anyway?"

"With Harry." She found a smile lighting up her face.

She always loved answering that she was with Harry. Being with Harry, spending time with him, had always led to the best times in her life, right from that first kiss to his unusual suggestions on how to treat her black eye the other night. She doubted that qualified Healers would say that a black eye needed bed rest but she was not going to argue with that.

Maybe she should go over to his flat tonight and check that he stayed in bed after that St Mungo's visit today. She was sure she could think of ways to stop him getting bored as well.

Hermione sighed, "Really."

"Hmm," Ginny replied, forcing herself to snap out of her daydreams about possible nighttime activities.

"Ginny," Hermione broke through her thoughts again.

"Where's Mum?" she asked, changing the topic of conversation; she would rather not go into details with anyone other than Harry about all that.

"She's had to leave already. She said that Fleur was expecting her and she would talk to you later."

Ginny smiled briefly. She may get it in the neck later, but at least she was not going to have an argument now. Her mother would accept no excuse for her being late, as she had shown so many times before. Actually that was wrong — her mother would probably accept the excuse that she had today, but there was no way that she was going to put Harry through all that. It wasn't fair on him.

She could hack it for a few more days.

"Well, at least one thing has worked out today."

"Hello, Ginny," Luna's voice floated airily through the curtains as she emerged.

Luna walked into the room in the light blue dress held with a simple belt tied by a bow with the long ribbon falling down the back. The cut of the strapless dress suited Luna, resting just above her breasts and sweeping all the way to the floor. She truly looked beautiful but Ginny couldn't help missing some of the quirks that truly made her Luna. If it wasn't for the fact that she was currently resting her wand behind her ear, you would have had a hard job knowing this was the same girl that had told her all about Nargles in her second year at Hogwarts.

Ginny's bad mood, that had been growing, all but disappeared. This was what life was about and not overbearing mothers or damn right intrusive reporters. And this Friday was about her, Harry, family and those friends that were damn near enough family.

"Luna, you look fantastic."

"I believe the look is very acceptable." Luna's penetrating blue eyes met her brown ones. "How are you feeling? It sounded quite like a group of dragons had burst in."

Hermione laughed and Ginny couldn't help but smile. Luna had helped her so much since becoming her friend, whether it was by reasoned argument or just one of her unique Luna expressions that made her smile. Besides, if she forced herself to look at things objectively, that statement was probably not too far away from the truth.

"I'm good."

"That is excellent news," Luna continued before using her knack for uncompromising honesty, "and are you ready to become Mrs Potter?"

Hermione looked at her as well. No doubt she wanted to hear the answer to that as well and Ginny found herself pausing. She was not ready for that question. Trust Luna to come up with something that would actually make her examine her feelings. She had never really thought about becoming Mrs Potter, the name just sounded so alien to her. She was a Weasley, not a Potter. Nor did she want to admit to herself that behind all the anger and frustration there was something very scary and real about what she was doing. It was very uneasy to enter the unknowing future and start looking at things objectively, despite what she may feel.

She had thought about how much she loved Harry, she knew that only too well.

Every other thought she'd had, had been caught up with getting ready for the day itself to allow her to think of anything else. What with the obsessive plans, the start to the new Quidditch season, and catching stolen moments with a just-as-busy Harry, she had been too busy to have time to think. And it was amazing how quickly, especially when you had so much to do, time started to fly by so fast.

She barely even thought about becoming Ginny Potter.

Even as she thought of the new, alien-sounding surname, she shrugged it off. It didn't matter, she was just, maybe, a little nervous and she loved Harry more than she had thought could be possible. Besides, she had too much to do to allow herself to get caught up in irrational nerves.

"I love Harry," she replied softly as she stepped into the changing rooms, very aware that she had not answered Luna's question.

"Ginny?" Luna's voice floated back to her.

Damn Ravenclaws.

"I can't imagine life without him," she said, a little stronger, "and I'm sure I'll get used to signing my name 'Potter'."

She stripped down to her underwear and tried on the white dress for the final time before Friday. She was yet another step closer to becoming Harry's wife.


	5. Bill Weasley and the Brotherly Advice

Chapter Four: Bill Weasley and the Brotherly Advice

Disclaimer: All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

Bill was on a mission, one that he had promised to take with each of his brothers before they got married. There were just things that you had to do as an older sibling and, according to both Ron and George, Harry needed a lot of help in this area. No wonder the visitor's badge that he had collected when he had arrived at the Ministry said 'Rescue Mission'; with Harry on your books, it was.

It actually took a long time to stroll through the ministry and get to the second floor and the level two offices where the Auror offices were located. It took even longer when he reached that floor, since so many war heroes had ended up working there, especially since Kingsley Shacklebolt had wanted everyone who was of age at the battle of Hogwarts to join up with the Aurors. Both he and Fleur had even done a few weeks themselves, as soon as the battle had finished. No one wanted Death Eaters escaping this time.

The real delay was when he bumped into his father.

"Bill," Arthur grinned, as he made his way over just before he had reached the Auror offices, "what you doing here?"

Bill did wonder how many times Harry bumped into his dad on a daily basis. He thought it must be unnerving to know that their father would see when he took a day off sick or came in late, as he was sure that Harry and Ginny were likely to do every once in a while in each of their respective jobs, especially after a big win for the Holyhead Harpies. Maybe it was much better that he worked at Gringotts. He was glad no one knew when, on the odd occasion, Fleur had given him good reason to go into the office late the next day.

"Harry," he replied as his father's smile grew.

"Ahh," his father laughed, "how's Fleur?"

Bill grinned. "She's really good."

"And that gorgeous little granddaughter of mine?"

"She's really good, too," Bill answered as he found his grin growing as he thought of his little girl. "She's looking forward to having someone to play with soon."

He really did like nothing more than talking of his little girl. She had already captured the attention of everyone who met her and he would openly admit that he was completely besotted with her and he could spend hours just staring at her. Her smile would have him grinning for hours afterwards. She really was perfect, and it was hard to believe at times that she really was his.

With Fleur — and now little Victoire — his family really was perfect and, if Fleur's suspicions were correct, as they had been with Victoire, then they would soon be adding to their small family. This was a secret that was becoming harder and harder to keep as the days passed because he was dying to tell the entire world. He loved being a father and the thought that he was about to become one again was sending him over the moon.

Arthur shook his head. "Harry and Ginny aren't going to have kids anytime soon. Ginny's far too young."

"She's old enough to get married," Bill pointed out, playing devil's advocate.

"Barely," Arthur observed. "Besides, your sister is a Quidditch player and Quidditch players don't have children at her age. She's not going to get pregnant any time soon."

Bill laughed. He was well aware that it would be career suicide for Harry and Ginny to start a family, but it was just so amusing to watch his father's expressions right now. "Harry and Ginny can get pretty passionate at times."

"Oh, we know that," Arthur replied with a grimace. "It was us that got a list of the spells she used just after the Battle of Hogwarts when she had just been reunited with Harry and still had the trace on her. That was not pleasant reading for any parent."

"Dad!" Bill protested. There was information to be had by playing devil's advocate, basically just having fun, and then there was way, way too much information.

Arthur laughed softly. "Well, you did bring it up, Bill."

"And I better be going," he said rather quickly as he forced a smile at his dad. "See you on Friday." He turned to leave but then looked at his father again. No, he could not keep this to himself any longer. If it hadn't been for the wedding coming up, they would have broken the news to his family earlier. His smile grew. "And by the way, we think it's Fleur who's pregnant again, but keep that to yourself until after the wedding. This is Ginny's moment, not ours."

"Congratulations! That's wonderful news, and your mother will be just as delighted when you tell her," he said as he clapped Bill on the shoulder, "and we'll see you on Friday."

"Bye, Dad," he said with a small wave.

Bill may well have been the one to start off the jokes about Harry and Ginny being passionate about each other. You'd have to be blind not to notice that, especially the way that were constantly touching each other and looking at each other. Half the time, they acted as if they had only just got together and not had nearly the number of problems that they'd had, but he didn't want to know any more details than what he did.

No sane person would want to know that about his sister, even it was the hero of the wizarding world that sister was fooling around with.

Without any other further delays, he made his way down the corridor and turned into the Auror offices. He gave a brief wave to another few friends as he weaved his way through the knot of messy desks.

"Harry," Bill called as he made his way into the Auror cubicles.

He had to stop himself laughing as Harry straightened himself from his slumped position, knocking over several papers on his very cluttered desk. It looked like he had a lot of overdue paperwork from the sheer number of piles littering his desk. Harry's desk, like many others in this part of the Ministry, was nothing short of a mess. There was hardly room for the photographs that shared their place on the desktop with the paperwork: one of Ginny in her Harpies robes and one of both her and Harry playing with Teddy.

Bill had to stop himself laughing even more as Harry scrambled for his paperwork, as if to show whoever had just walked in that he was actually working and not avoiding the paperwork that was piled there. His soon-to-be brother-in-law was a great wizard, there was no doubting that. Not only was he the hero of the wizarding world and a truly great Auror, but he was still just Harry in so many ways. He was a man who got as nervous as the rest of them when facing Bill's own mother and joined in the banter with such ease at the Weasleys' meals as if he had been born one. In fact, he was already part of the Weasley family in so many ways, had been for years. Maybe Ginny had been right when she had joked that he should be the one taking her name. But surname of Weasley or not, he was still going to get the real Weasley treatment here; he deserved nothing less.

"Come on, Harry," he said, "we're taking an early lunch."

"What?"

"We have an appointment," Bill told him with a small grin.

"What?" Harry questioned again, clearly confused.

"We don't let Weasleys get embarrassed, except maybe Percy, and he can already dance. And George has told me that I very much have a rescue mission on my hands today," Bill said with a small laugh. "We've booked you in for dance lessons; don't want you standing all over Ginny's feet on Friday."

They made their way into Diagon Alley and dived down to a dance studio that was owned by a friend of Fleur's. With the reporters following Ginny around (and Harry, to a lesser extent — being the hero of the wizarding world was at least giving him a little more privacy) and the daily articles in the wizarding press as Friday approached, they had two options when it came to keeping the details of this wedding private. The first was being used by Ginny as often as she could, as she had taken to disappearing into Muggle London to get things done. It would be very obvious if a reporter popped up in the Muggle world, as well as violating so many of the basic wizarding laws to Apparate in front of Muggles, so she was getting some relative peace. The second option was to go with trusted friends.

This time he was going with friends. Fleur had first met Julia when she had come into Gringotts to transfer some money over from her vault in France and recognised her straight away as a girl who had been two years ahead of her at Beauxbatons. The pair had hit it off straight away as they each looked for someone that they could just talk with in their native tongue. Fleur had explained that, although most times it was amazing to be in Britain and that she did not regret the decision to move here in the slightest, sometimes it was good just to be with someone from the same country who had a similar background, just as she sometimes craved a food that was simply French and not some of the horrible stuff that the British thought was food.

"Bonjour," Bill said as he pushed open the door, before kissing Julia on each cheek.

"Oh, bonjour, Bill. 'ow are you? Fleur? Petit Victoire?" Julia raced out the words. "Fleur must come and see me again soon."

"I'll tell her that, but we're all pretty busy until Friday. She has a lot she wants to talk to you about as well." Bill smiled at Harry. "This is Harry; he's the brave man who has agreed to marry my sister. Harry, this is Julia. She's one of Fleur's closest friends and an excellent dance instructor."

"It is a pleasure to meet you 'Arry, a real pleasure," Julia said as she offered her hand.

"Likewise," Harry said.

"We're not asking you to work miracles," Bill said with a laugh, "just enough to get him and Ginny around the dance floor in one piece a couple of times."

"Nonsense, Bill," she tutted, clearly not impressed at his downplaying of her abilities. "Everyone can dance, zhey just need ze training."

Julia soon regretted these words as she left the dance floor muttering, 'Merde!' under her breath and summoned an assistant to take over. She then spent an hour chatting with Bill with an icing charm on her foot as she continued to ask questions about his ever-growing family and making more claims that they needed to come over soon for a meal with her and Michael.

Michael was actually the reason that Julia had moved to England — after years of being pen pals — and they had got married almost straight away once they were both living in the country. They also had a little girl, Marie, who was six months older than Victoire, and it was highly useful to know another set of parents who had different mother tongues to contend with, and most of the same problems.

"So, about 'Arry," she finally said, "I know he is ze 'ero but a lot of 'eroes aren't zhat great in real life, it is why I tend to avoid meeting zhem. No one wants to see zheir 'eroes fall under closer security — too many flaws exposed, I think, but 'Arry… well, he seems different. Is he as good everyone claims?"

"Oh," he smiled, "he's all that. He really is pretty much a perfect fit for Ginny and we know that he's not going to hurt her and he makes her so happy. She's just a different person when he's around, especially if you compare her mental state now to how she was in the war. Ginny had a really tough war and Harry kind of completes her, in a way."

"I guess zhat makes your job as a bruzzer-in-law quite easy," she observed. "My leetle sister is marrying zhis real fool. It is a very good job zhat I no longer live in Marseilles so I do not have to see it every day." She shrugged then continued, "But I guess we all have our faults. Your 'Arry still can't dance."

"True," Bill laughed, "but I do think there is some improvement there."

"You tell zhat to my poor toes!"

A couple of hours later, he knew he had been right, as they sat back in the Leaky Cauldron for a couple of drinks. It had not been too hard to persuade Harry to take the rest of the day off and Bill was very glad he had taken Harry for dance lessons. However, he was sure the witch who had acted as instructor once Julia had refused to do the job any longer and now had black and blue toes, was not. Hero and great wizard Harry may be, but he was no dancer. Luckily, he had got slightly better as time progressed; he now seemed to recognise feet from floor so at least Ginny should still be able to walk on her feet when the night finished.

"Today wasn't really about dancing, was it?" Harry asked.

"Not that you didn't need the lessons, but no, it wasn't," Bill said as he poured Harry a large drink of Firewhisky. He figured, after an afternoon of dancing, he needed it. With drinks in hand, Bill continued, "Since you're really one of us now, Harry, I thought I'd check in on you, just like I'd do with the others, it's kind of a big brother's job." Harry smiled at him before Bill continued in a very serious tone, "How you feeling, Harry?"

"Nervous." He gulped out the answer and followed it with a fairly long drink. "Really nervous."

Bill grinned. "That's good, actually, and perfectly natural. Everyone feels nervous on their wedding day; we'd be more worried if you didn't." He softened his grin into a smile. "What are you nervous about, surely not the dancing, now?"

"No, I hadn't even thought of that, with so many things to do before I get to the dancing." Harry gulped. "What if I put on my robes back to front?"

Bill laughed. "I think you'd notice. Besides, Mum wouldn't let you do that."

"What if I trip over something as I take my place and send things flying everywhere?"

Bill smiled at him. "You won't if you look where you're going."

"What if I forget the words?" Harry rambled on.

"Well..." Bill started, as he remembered he'd had these same fears on _his_ wedding day: what if he forgot the words with everyone looking and he embarrassed Fleur? "...that's actually quite hard to do, since you just have to repeat the words."

"What if I mess up Ginny's name? Say it wrong or something? Get it the wrong way? Call her Ginny instead of Ginevra?"

"Then I wouldn't want you marrying my sister if you can't get her name right." Bill grinned at him before adopting a much more serious look. "Seriously, Harry, there's only one thing that matters on Friday."

"Which is?" Harry looked utterly clueless as he spoke.

Bill had to shake his head at this; for Britain's hero, Harry was not overly bright at times. "You love Ginny."

"Of course I do," Harry answered this quickly and a huge grin spread over his face.

"Well, then, you'll do just fine," Bill told him.

"But what if…"

"Things go just fine and you have a great day?" Bill interrupted as he clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Welcome to the family. Now let's get going before Fleur or Ginny come looking for us, I don't want to be on the wrong side of either of those wands."

They parted at the grate for Floo calls in the Leaky Cauldron, Harry claiming he had a call to make and Bill was pretty certain he knew who that call was to, due to the grin on Harry's face. No doubt Harry would be getting another lesson on being a Weasley and Ginny would be Flooing around in the morning, explaining to their mother that she had stayed with Bill and Fleur overnight. Ginny had asked each of them to cover for her so many times in the last few months that it was becoming a running joke: It's Wednesday, so Ginny must have stayed here last night.

It wasn't until much later that evening and they had settled Victoire down for the night, tidied up the house, Fleur had told him that she was positive that she was pregnant, and they were listening to music in the small living room, that the subject of Harry came up again.

"'Ow did zhings go with 'Arry?" Fleur finally asked as she settled her head on Bill's shoulder.

"Apart from the dancing, really well," Bill told her, "I think he's just about ready to become a Weasley. Even with the hints and lessons he gets from Ginny, I think he just needed someone else to welcome him to the family and tell him things would be okay."

"You really are a vonderful bruzzer, Bill," she told him in soft tones, "and an even better 'usband. If 'Arry is 'alf as good, Ginny will be very lucky."


	6. George Weasley and the Muggle Arrest

Chapter Five: George Weasley and the Muggle Arrest

Disclaimer: All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

George had been enjoying the bachelor party; it was always enjoyable to see Harry get drunk. He was such an amusing drunk, especially since, like Ron, he was tone deaf when it came to singing, and just to make things more amusing, it looked like Charlie was about to give Harry 'the talk' about how he needed to treat his younger sister. The scene was set to make things even more fun: Charlie could be very frightening when he wanted to be — the man did hold his own against dragons on a daily basis — so George was a little disappointed when Ginny's Patronus had appeared.

That disappointment had faded, however, when he had heard it talk.

He had known from a young age that Ginny was not the innocent little girl that she had made herself out to be at times. It may have taken some of their family until Ginny's sixth year at Hogwarts to know what she was made of, but he had been on the wrong side of her hexes one too many times to believe that sweet smile of hers. Fred used to say, when they were growing up, if you had a sister who could outwit a Gringotts' goblin and curse like a dealer in Knockturn Alley, it meant you could tolerate having a twit like Percy as a brother. That's why the pair of them had taken her under their wings; she was much more like them than anyone realised. This was one of the reasons why he had offered her a job when she had finished Hogwarts, which she had turned down, naturally, in favour of her contact with the Holyhead Harpies — not that he could blame her for that.

Today, however, it looked like she had outdone them. Not even Fred had managed to get himself into this situation — not that he hadn't come close on a couple of occasions, especially that incident involving a beach ball, a fake wand and a pair of red pants on the pier in Muggle Brighton.

Despite all their mother's warnings about what may happen to them if they didn't focus on their studies, neither he nor Fred had ever been arrested. They had always got out just in the nick of time. So to have to pick up his little sister, the apple of his mother's eye and her darling little angel (not that she had been seen as that for years), from a please station was highly amusing, to say the least. And something that he was sure he would remember for years to come.

It was hard to stop the fits of laughter as he pushed open the door.

He was more than a little regretful he had not gone back to the shop to pick up some devices that would help him keep a complete record of the events tonight; they would be worth so much in the morning. Accio'ing them now, across Muggle London, would break so many wizarding laws and cause the attention that Ginny had obviously wanted to avoid. Luckily, he did have the camera that he had brought to Harry's stag do, to use to embarrass him at a later date.

It looked like another way that Ginny was going to become Harry's equal.

He was going to be able to dine out for months, embarrassing her over this.

George walked into the please station and straight up to the Muggle in charge. With the use of some rather helpful spells, he managed to talk himself to the cell area without too much effort. They really did need better security at these places, although he guessed that please-men were not used to wizards and the persuasive tactics they had, not to mention the odd Confundus Charm. He scanned the corridor that led to the cells. This place really wasn't too bad. Not a patch on Azkaban. His only visit to that prison, during the Death Eater trials, still sent shivers down his spine.

He looked through two of the wall grates before he came across her.

With a flick of his wand, he opened the cell door to see Ginny sitting on the bed. She did not look upset in the slightest, not that she would — just bored, as if she was just frustrated and wanted to get back to her night out.

"Well, well, well..." George said as he stared at his little sister. "This is quite a sight."

Her eyes met his and she glared at him. "Cut it out, George."

Ginny's glare would make most normal people back down, but George wasn't any ordinary person, especially when it came to Ginny. Both he and Fred had helped teach her all her tricks and knew all her tactics. He knew every one of her expressions only too well. He knew when she was really angry and when she was only giving the impression that she was angry to suit her own purpose. Besides, he had the upper hand this time, since there were so many people that Ginny would want to keep this from.

He was going to have a bit of fun before he helped her out and Ginny had to expect that too.

"Oh, be nice," he cracked as he grinned at her, "or I'll conjure up a camera."

"George," she spat.

"Now, now, Ginny, behave yourself," he said as his smile grew. "You are supposed to be a role model to young children. Wasn't that in the _Daily Prophet_ this morning? A nice long Skeeter article on how Quidditch stars should realise the role and responsibility that have." Ginny's frown grew and he continued to smile at her. "Oh, I could sell the pictures for millions of Galleons even without a story or quotes." He laughed. "That would double the price."

"You wouldn't!"

George laughed, teasing her further, "Wouldn't I?"

"Oh, come on, George. You know the press are going to have a field day with this, not to mention the Harpies or..." he noticed Ginny give an involuntary shudder, "...Mum." Ginny continued to glare at him as she shook off the shudder. "Just get me out of here, please."

"Fine, but one thing first," George waved his wand and conjured a camera, "Smile."

"George," she protested.

"Ginny," he overruled.

Ginny met his eyes again and this time her look had softened, her defences dropped as she tried to sweet talk him into getting her way. "Okay, what do you want?"

George grinned. He rarely got to take advantage of Ginny like this; she was normally too careful for that and he never got exactly what he wanted from her unless Ginny was willing to give it in the first place. Usually, he would have to give something she wanted in exchange, and Ginny could be very good at bargaining. The Gringotts goblins should really take note of her skills.

He needed to think about this, and what he could hold over her head if he was going to help her tonight, and there was never any doubt that he would help her. That's why Ginny had sent him the Patronus: Ron would have told Harry; both Percy, and to a lesser extent Bill, would have lectured her and it would have totally changed Charlie's opinion on her. Charlie had been away for so long he still, at times, struggled to see Ginny as the little girl he had left at ten years old, something Ginny often used to her advantage, an advantage that she did not want to lose. No, she knew that he would help her and without mentioning it to anyone, but he was going to make it worth his while.

And then he had it.

He knew what he wanted to start with.

Ginny had been greatly embarrassed recently, when the Harpies had released a 'Ginny Weasley action figure' and although Angelina stocked them in her shop, he had been outright banned from getting one. His girlfriend had refused to sell him one, saying she would not help him in his games to embarrass his sister, and Ginny had hexed him so badly that it had led to a St Mungo's visit when he had suggested getting one so he could use it with his Boy-Who-Lived doll to demonstrate what he thought of their relationship.

If Ginny was this adamant that he was not going to get one, this was the first thing he wanted.

She really should know better than to be this insistent on something. After he'd played with the two dolls a couple of times, including some rather amusing comments, he would probably have given up. Now, Ginny was going to be forced to endure watching the two dolls talk to each other for hours every week at The Burrow as he manipulated their actions, and, for fear of their mum finding out about this arrest, she would keep quiet — at least for a while.

None of them were stupid and none of them wanted their mother to know anything she didn't have to. After all, what Molly Weasley didn't know could not kill you, and she had come so close to stringing them up for far more minor things than a Muggle arrest.

Oh, and Ginny had already tested those boundaries a lot recently, especially when she refused to back down. Ginny wasn't stupid and would not enter a fight with her mother lightly, but when it came to getting her way with Harry, Ginny was willing to do battle every time, even when she knew that she stood very little chance of winning. The planning of the wedding proving the perfect example of this as Ginny had fought with their mother over so many issues.

Ginny had proved herself to be willing to do anything for Harry over the years, even if it meant that she was left hurting. She had even gone so far as to let him break her heart. Ginny was not that good an actress for the rest of them — the ones who really knew her — not to know what had happened. They all knew that Ginny had been left a shadow of herself that year, even when she had tried to hide her tears. It had been very painful to see her at times.

Likewise, Harry was the same with her, even if it meant risking her temper later, as he had when he told her to stay in the Room of Requirement during the Battle of Hogwarts. And Harry had witnessed that temper in its full force after the battle had finished; Ginny hated being told she was too young and being left behind. It was a mistake Harry wasn't likely to make again.

Maybe he could use the dolls to act out the 'Who is the Biggest Noble Prat' scene as they sacrificed things for each other. After all, he had seen both of them sacrifice their happiness for the other. No doubt he could reduce 'who could give what' to the real basics. He could have hours of fun with that, especially if Ginny started to get infuriated with the scene.

He could just see her hand twitching right now as it shot for her wand, and then there would be the frustration on her face when she realised that she could not pull it out and hex him. It would be wonderful to watch it unfold.

Getting one of those actions figure was a must.

"Oh," his grin grew with delight, "I think one of your action figures to start with."

"George." She started again, readying to protest all the points he made and no doubt with reasonably convincing argument.

He held his hand up to stop her; he knew his sister, her tricks and even the words she would use. There was no way, absolutely no way, that he was going to let her get away with all that tonight, especially when he had such an upper hand. "Oh, but you look so sweet in those Harpies robes. I admit, not as sweet as you do now in the Muggle handcuffs, or even wizarding ones if they found out, but still..."

George used the camera to take a photograph. There was no way that he was leaving this cell without any evidence. He could hardly wait to get that shot developed. Maybe he should make several copies in case Ginny set about stealing any evidence back. He was not going to underestimate her abilities to sneak her way out of this, once she had got out of this cell.

Ginny sighed. "Shouldn't you be talking to the Muggle please-men?"

"The please-men can wait," George mused, "I also think we are going to need you down the shop. You know — as the family celebrity."

"You know I hate that stuff," she groaned, "and I already went down to the opening of Angelina's shop."

Ginny really did hate the public appearances. She thought — and she was probably right — that it only fuelled the press attention that she got — attention that she did not want in the first place. It took a hell of a lot of persuading to get her to give an appearance that she didn't have to. It had actually — even though she had promised to do whatever she could to help — taken a hell of a lot of promises, several lies that helped her stay at Harry's house over night without her mother finding out, and over a week of owls to talk her into going down to Angelina's shop. Yet when she had gone, she had indeed played her part, signed autographs for over an hour and even brought down unique Holyhead Harpies goods. The mayhem at the shop had taken two days to die down and proved a very nice start for its books, a start that Angelina's Quidditch Shop was still getting rewards from months later, as the profits had helped fund so many other ventures.

If Ginny could do that for Angelina, then she could do it for him. After all, whether they liked it or not, Ginny would get followed wherever she was in the wizarding world, so she may as well help out her family.

"Not as much as you'll hate the press, the Professional Quidditch Association," Ginny had already been brought up in front of the Professional Quidditch Association six times in her short career for bringing the game into disrepute, the latest being her reaction to her photo being taken on Sunday, "and Mum finding out about this. She'll love to hear about tonight's little adventure."

"Fine," she spat, still glaring and her words were tense, "consider it done."

Ten minutes later, and after getting the action figure, the shop appearance and getting Ginny to take the blame for the next of his pranks that went wrong at The Burrow, George spoke to the please-man and, with the use of a bit of magic, managed to get the charges dropped. Finally, they made their way out and back into Muggle London.

He turned to look at his sister, who was now massaging her wrists. He knew the reason that Ginny had opted to go out in Muggle London instead of somewhere in the wizarding world. Here, no one knew who she was and she could enjoy herself on her hen night without getting followed. She did not want photos of herself appearing in the newspapers after she'd had a few drinks and it looked like, after what had happened already, that she had made the right choice.

"So, how did you end up in there?" George finally asked.

"It was a dare that went wrong." She shot him a smile. "And you wouldn't have wanted me to back out on a dare."

"Very true." He grinned. "I'm guessing this came from your mates on the Harpies squad and not Hermione."

Ginny laughed. "Yes, it came from the Harpies; I think Hermione nearly fainted when I ran out of the pub — kinda explains why she's not here now. You know what we get like after a few." Her smile grew for the first time that evening. "We're a very spirited team..."

George echoed her laugh. "I really should come out with you girls more."

Ginny grinned at him. "I'm sure Angelina would approve of that!"

"Hey," he held his hands up in mock protest, "I'm just watching over my little sister so nothing happens to her." He grinned. "Looks like she needs it."

"Maybe, but she would like to get back to them now," she said as she hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for helping me out, and look after Harry for me tonight."

George returned her hug before releasing her. "I will do, but if I'm going to rescue one of England's finest Aurors from a please station, I'm going to want _him _at the shop too."

Ginny just smiled at him before saying, "While most people have a little angel that sits on one shoulder and a little devil on the other, I'm starting to think that maybe my little angel has been thrown off by the little devil that is still there, but Harry's angel is still there. He's too noble for his own good."

George laughed again. "Well, let that little devil enjoy the rest of the night as the angel is going to be back before too long. In less than a week, you're going to be one of those sensible, mature, married people."

Ginny just smiled at him before she Apparated out of there, no doubt back to the Muggle pub for several more drinks and George returned to the bachelor party. With any luck Charlie, wouldn't have spoken to Harry yet, nor would his soon-to-be brother-in-law have stopped singing.

After all, Harry and Ginny were equal, and he saw no reason for that to stop being the case tonight, especially when it came to stories that he would be able to embarrass both of them with.


	7. Charlie Weasley and the Firewhisky Talk

Chapter Six: Charlie Weasley and the Firewhisky Talk

Disclaimer: All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

The bar was loud and the Firewhisky was flowing, as well as several much stronger drinks; it was just the way he liked it. It was just the kind of atmosphere that Charlie liked to have in a bar. He had always been a sociable person and enjoyed a good chat with people over a drink, and who didn't? It was actually the first thing he looked for when he visited a new dragon reserve — a decent local pub. And he had spent many a night in Romania, taking a break from the dragons at the local pub just outside the reserve. It was a local pub that actually had a lot of atmosphere, but then, dragon trainers hardly tended to be the quiet, subdued type and he was quickly learning that Aurors (and the rest of Harry's non-Auror friends, even the new Hogwarts Herbology professor) were the same.

He guessed it was due to the level of potential danger in the job. It didn't really attract wallflowers who wanted to hide. Each day, one did not know what to expect, every day was different and trouble could flare up with a single breath of a bad-tempered dragon or the hex of a wizard's wand. They never knew at the start of each day whether they would end it in their own beds or in hospital ones.

Words were now floating in the air as several of the witches at the bar got up to sing karaoke. Charlie's eyes fell on a cute blonde who was now singing a Weird Sisters song about love that he had heard playing in Ginny's room earlier that week, very loudly. The witch actually wasn't that bad and she was definitely worth talking to later in the night. He was actually highly disappointed when the song finished and he could not remember feeling that way when the song had finished playing in Ginny's room. But then, this blonde witch wasn't his sister and that made a huge, _huge_ difference.

"You alright, Charlie?" George asked as he came over with some more drinks.

"Not bad," he shrugged, while offering his brother a small grin.

"Just eyeing up the talent?" George glanced over at the bar. "And it's not that bad, either. Hannah has some very attractive friends, not to mention her staff."

Charlie laughed. "Too bad you're already taken."

George rubbed the back of his neck rather nervously as he let out a small laugh. "Yeah, Angelina would skin me alive for looking at another witch. Very passionate woman."

"Your secret's safe with me. I won't even tell her that you glanced over for me," Charlie said with a smile. "I really don't miss having a passionate witch calling the shots over me. Stopping the fun."

"Oh, it's not all like that, but that's not really the point. So," George continued, "you going to do something about it? Talk to the blonde?"

"I'm only in Britain for a few days," Charlie sighed. "It wouldn't really be worth it."

"Come on, Charlie; listen to your little brother." George grinned. "Sometimes these things are worth it, even for the shortest of times. Look at Harry, Ginny. They knew they might not have long when they got together, there was a bloody war going on at the time."

"I guess," he said as both sets of eyes turned to Harry.

Charlie watched as Ron clapped his arm around Harry's shoulder and they both joined in, along with some more of their old Hogwarts friends, in some very bad, alcohol-fuelled singing. The Hogwarts professor only broke off kissing the new owner of the Leaky Cauldron when the wolf whistles and calls of 'Longbottom' of the others became both deafening and highly distracting.

"Oh my, he's as bad at that as he is at dancing," George told him. "More drinks?"

"Always."

Charlie had never actually seen Harry act like this, but then, he really didn't know Harry as well as the rest of his family. He had only actually briefly met him during the Quidditch World Cup Finals, at Bill and Fleur's wedding, and in the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts. He did know enough to know that he was good for Ginny and seemed to make her happy. The way Ginny's face would light up when she saw him was really unbelievable. He had such a fantastic effect on her, but that still didn't change anything, and he hardly knew Harry as an actual person, the real person his little sister was marrying, and not the hero who was in the newspaper pages.

If he wanted to, he could look at Harry as most of the wizarding world did. There were only minor dents on what was reported, mostly through what his family had told him. He knew that Harry was a major Quidditch fan, and had seen for himself that he was a good flier, but had chosen the noble line of work of being an Auror, which was not too surprising, according to the rest of his siblings. He knew that Harry was noble; he had seen that in the way Harry had acted with Ginny at Bill and Fleur's wedding. He had never seen Ginny as quiet as over those few days, although it would take a member of the Weasley family to notice that; Ginny could put on a great act when she wanted to. And he had learnt at the battle of Hogwarts that Harry would do whatever it took to do the right thing — it took a better man than many to face He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named alone.

He guessed you couldn't ask for better for your little sister.

Not many people found their sister dating one of the greatest wizards of modern day, or at least, that was what the _Daily Prophet_ had named him this week as they did in so many articles in the run-up to the wedding. Looking at it objectively, Ginny really could not have done any better than she had done, in marrying Harry.

Charlie threw another shot of Firewhisky down his throat and let his eyes briefly focus on the young witches at the bar, particularly the blonde, who had captured the attention of a couple of Harry's old school friends and fellow Aurors but not Harry himself, who was spending his time talking to his friends instead. At least he could trust that Harry would never hurt his little sister that way. Harry seemed to only have eyes for Ginny, which was good — really good at that.

That didn't mean, however, that he was free from the sin of hurting Ginny. He had already hurt her and hurt her really badly. It had been painful to watch her over Christmas of that year, the war year, when she had let her guard drop. And despite all the best intentions behind it, it was Harry who had done that to her. He had to know that because the Weasleys were nothing if not protective of their own — Harry may be close, almost a Weasley already, but Ginny came first; she was his little sister, after all. Harry would not be allowed to do that again — not be allowed to hurt her like that again.

Weasley bonds were tight.

Charlie watched Harry finish his song (another of those Weird Sister love songs that Ginny had been listing to this week) before he got to his feet and took a seat next to him.

"Harry," he spoke softly but there was a level of authority in the words he picked, "I want a word with you."

"Charlie," Harry gulped back.

They both paused briefly as Ginny's horse Patronus appeared at George's side and rather glumly he got to his feet. He looked like he wanted to stay and watch the scene develop here instead. George may have been reluctant, but Harry obviously was not in the slightest. Harry had instantly jumped to his feet, pulling his wand out the second that the silvery phantom horse appeared.

Charlie really didn't need any more reassurance than that about what Harry would do for his sister. You could truly tell just by looking in his eyes, how much he would do for her. Surely if you'd found that, you were never too young to get married, especially if you knew how short and precious life could truly be.

"Ginny," Harry breathed.

"Don't worry, Harry," George reassured him, "if it was really life and death, she'd have sent for you. It really can't be that important; I'm sure she's fine, just trying to ruin my night, or Angelina's got her to check up on what's going on here, that's all. Nothing important. Enjoy the evening and I'll see you in a bit."

Both of them watched George follow the horse Patronus out of the bar and into Diagon Alley, Harry breathing Ginny's name and reassuring himself that she would be fine.

Charlie had to smile at that reaction as he sat back down. He had no doubt that his sister knew how to handle herself. He had been subjected to her anger and the wrong side of her wand too many times. Besides, George, if any of them did more than the others, really watched out for Ginny, even more so since Fred's death. Maybe that was because Ginny didn't mind his interference as much as she did from the rest of them. If he said she was going to be fine, she'd be fine.

Instead, he turned his mind back to the conversation at hand. It had long been decided that he would be the best person to give Harry the talk. After all, he was the most detached from Harry; he could be the most objective about these things.

"Actually, Harry," he started, "it was Ginny I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah?" Harry sounded nervous.

That was a good starting point. Charlie didn't normally relish people being nervous in his company, he was much too sociable for that, but he did know how to frighten people when he needed to. His temper could be as legendary as his mum and sister; they all had that rather forcible aspect of the Prewett personality. He guessed that was why he was so good with dragons; they also had rather forceful personalities. But for this, it was only right for Harry to be a little nervous, even if it was just to show him how serious they were.

"We all like you 'n' all, think you're a pretty top bloke," Charlie smiled at him, "but blood is thicker than water, especially in the Weasley family, and no matter how old she gets, Ginny will always be our little sister."

Harry looked utterly confused at these words. "I'm not sure I get what you mean?"

"Well, just put it this way: if you hurt Ginny, intentionally or not, you'll have the six of us to answer to and we have some pretty powerful magic in this family. I'm very fond of those dragons; George and Ron own the joke shop; Bill is a pretty handy curse-breaker, he could have you locked in a tomb in an instant, and Percy could bury you under so much paperwork that it could cause real problems, and you'd never see the light of day through it again." He fixed Harry with a stare and saw the younger man gulp, no doubt as he pictured all this in his mind. The Weasleys could be pretty damn handy when they wanted to be, especially when it came to protecting their tribe, as their mother had shown at the battle of Hogwarts. "And don't think Fred would let a little thing like death stop him from hurting you if you don't treat Ginny as she should be. And we're very protective of her and have incredibly high standards on what is good enough for her."

"I'd never hurt Ginny," Harry protested instantly, without a second to think over the words that Charlie had just said. "Never."

"I know that," he nodded. "We all know that you would never intentionally hurt her."

"What?" Harry spluttered.

"You've already hurt Ginny before." He held up his hand to stop Harry's protests. "You hurt her when you broke up, and we know it wasn't intentional, which is why we didn't hurt you when we were all back for Bill's wedding." Charlie smiled at him. "If it hadn't been for Ginny's protests, we would have found another way to get rid of Voldemort. As I said, Ginny's one of our own, she comes first, no matter what."

Was Harry really unaware of all this?

He'd been in a different country and yet aware of how much Ginny had been hurt. But then again, he'd seen her after Bill and Fleur's wedding, after Harry had run with Ron and Hermione, and before Ginny had put that great act up. And then he'd seen the pain she had been in at Christmas. Harry had only seen the aftermath. Whereas Charlie had seen those moments, those emotions and the pure human panic, devotion, pain and worry.

Charlie thought that the pair of them had talked for hours about that year. At least, that was what the rest of his brothers had said had happened, that Harry and Ginny had stayed up until all hours talking, discussing the effects of the war. Maybe they needed one more talk.

Whatever it took so that he did not hurt her.

"I wouldn't—" Harry gulped out.

"I know, and we don't blame you," Charlie interrupted him. "Just remember, Ginny is only human too, despite the act she puts up. She may be a famous Quidditch player, as brave as any Gryffindor is, and knows how to put on a superb act whenever Rita Skeeter writes yet another nonsense article claiming that you two are going to break up, but she does hurt. We've all seen it when she thinks we're not watching, but you can only throw so much at even the strongest people. And we're her big brothers and we hate to see her hurt, it's only natural," Charlie continued, pausing only to take another shot of Firewhisky. "Don't hurt her, Harry."

Harry looked him straight in the eyes. "I won't."

"Well, that's good enough for me," he said as his grin expanded, "just know we'll be watching, and Fred has time to do nothing but watch these days."

Harry smiled back rather nervously. "I hope not too closely," he said as he put his cards on the table now. "You know what Ginny's like if she thinks one of her brothers is interfering with her life."

Charlie laughed; Ginny may be the youngest and the only girl in the family, but that had never stopped her getting her own way most of the time as all her brothers knew to their expense. Size was nowhere near a guarantee of power when it came to Ginny, she could be just as powerful and as forceful as the rest of them. And she was the family Quidditch player, which was no mean feat in itself and just went to show how fierce she could be. That was no sport for the light-hearted, especially at the very top level, and if the newspaper back pages were to be believed, she was on the verge of the very elite in the game and a call up to international level.

"Oh, it won't be that close," he said with a widening grin as he realized that Harry really didn't know what he was taking on, "I reckon I could take Ginny; I deal with dragons on a daily basis, but still, you're right that there are certain things that a brother doesn't want to see. Look after her, Harry."

"I will."

"Well let's get back to drinking then," he said scanning the bar. "There was a rather cute witch over there Harry; no offence, but I'm going to see if I can still get a date for Friday."

Maybe George was right. Maybe it was worth the risk once in a while. No matter how limited the time, sometimes it was worth approaching a girl. And what was the worst that could happen? He'd have a date and someone to dance with at the wedding. Surely that couldn't hurt things.

With that Charlie got up and approached the cute blonde witch at the bar. His brothers may be keen on settling down but he was far from ready. And while Ginny may be old enough to be getting married and have found the perfect man to settle down with, he very much doubted that she was going to actually settle down. He knew that he was still too young and had not met the right person to settle down with and he doubted that he would find someone who suited him as Harry seemed to be right for Ginny. But in the meantime, it was fun exploring those options.


	8. Percy Weasley and the Unwanted Reporters

Chapter Seven: Percy Weasley and the Unwanted Reporters

Disclaimer: All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

Percy brushed down his robes and straightened his glasses as he stood in his old bedroom at The Burrow. He studied his appearance as he took another look in the mirror; he decided he looked perfectly presentable and, thankfully, even the old talking mirror agreed with him. He looked good enough to see Audrey and acceptable enough to attend his sister's wedding.

More noise broke through the room, several screams and loud shouts followed. Noise was very much part of the Weasley family growing up; it had filled every crevices in The Burrow's walls. It was what had made his time away from his family even harder. He had missed the noise almost as much as he had the love and support that was offered there. His estrangement had been much harder with the lack of noise; the quiet walls of his London flat had never laughed, joked or even yelled. As with many people, he did not miss that noise until it was gone, and loud family occasions like today's had really highlighted just how much he had missed.

And today had really taken the biscuit, in terms of noise. Everyone was running up and down the stairs, the house was in chaos as things were lost, found and lost again and he'd heard his mother's shouts at least a dozen times already that day. She was going to make sure that everything was perfect today and would not accept anyone who was willing to settle for any less.

"GINNY!" the scream came again, "Where did you put that bouquet? ARTHUR, why are things a mess out there? And who's checking the gates and charms on them? BILL, CHARLIE, you two can do that. RON, that better not be you I'm hearing in that kitchen. GINNY, would you stay upstairs, Harry's down in the living room."

The whole house was currently in chaos. His mum had been running up and down the corridors screaming at the top of her voice trying to organise things. Hermione and Luna had been in and out of Ginny's room too many times to count and both Harry and Ron had been banished from the house after Ginny had tried to sneak down to see him.

At times, it was really good to be back in the lovely chaos of the Weasley family. This just showed him how much he'd missed and he realised that he'd really missed it all, too. Even if it was too disorganised for his everyday liking, it was nice to come back to it for a while.

He guessed the chaos was to be expected on a wedding day, but he was very glad to get out the house to start organising the guests with Charlie, George and Bill. His mother had now banished them to the garden to check that everything was in its right place and greet guests and help them enter past the charms that were protecting The Burrow, with the words that everything had to be, and was going to be, perfect. She only got one chance with each of her children's wedding days and she was not going to have any regrets at the end of it.

Percy glanced around the garden. The Burrow was tidier than he could ever remember it being. All the gnomes had been thrown over the hedges, a task that had proved a great deal of fun yesterday as they had made a game of who could throw the gnomes the furthest. Surprisingly, and much to each of her brother's disbelief and amusement, Ginny had won, but then she was a Chaser, so there really should have been no surprise there. Other than that, the marquee filled the garden and streamers hung from each of the trees. He had to hand it to his mother, she really had the garden looking quite magnificent — it even looked like she had polished the chickens' beaks in case anyone looked into their cages.

"You ready for the show?" Charlie asked.

"I rather think so," Percy said briskly with a nod, "the scene definitely looks set."

"Indeed it does, Perce," George said, "but then, who doubted Mum for getting it to look like this?"

"And we should never underestimate Mum," Bill told them, "she's shown us that so often."

"Yes, keeping your mother on your side saves cooking on a Sunday," George laughed.

"And stops her from murdering us," Charlie added as he slapped George on his shoulder.

"Too true," George agreed.

Percy was about to answer but he stopped himself before the words even came out. His eyes fell on the brown-haired witch who had just walked onto The Burrow's grounds. She was wearing delicate purple satin robes and her long, light brown hair was twisted up into an elegant bun. She looked stunning, but then she always looked stunning, even when she was in her work robes, her hair frazzled, her glasses on, biting her bottom lip and with ink smudging her fingers.

Slowly he made his way over to her.

"Percy," Audrey, his girlfriend, called as she came through in the first wave of guests.

He straightened his horn-rimmed glasses, a gesture that many had told him made him look pompous, but Audrey had told him, late one night when they had been working through piles of paperwork, that she found it adorable. Then the conversation had led to a very desirable outcome, all paperwork forgotten. Therefore, he had taken to performing this gesture every time he saw her.

"Audrey," he said as he greeted her with a small kiss, "you remember Bill, Charlie and George."

"Of course," she said politely and with a small, slightly shy smile.

He studied her; she had said she would be here early, before the first wave of guests. Not that it mattered much, but it was not like his girlfriend to be late. "What took you so long?"

She let out a long sigh, "Reporters."

"If only Ginny would learn to ignore Rita Skeeter," he said as he shook his head; he really did despair at his sister's actions sometimes. He knew the press was always following Ginny, but she didn't help matters, and at times she really did do the family name absolutely no good to see her picture plastered across the newspapers the way it was. "Then the press, even Rita Skeeter, would soon lose interest and ignore her. Ginny can be far to rash for her own good."

"Oh come, Perce," George interrupted as he jumped to Ginny's defence automatically, "I'm not sure anyone could deal with Rita if they had daily contact with her. If I was her, Rita would have been hexed a long time ago."

"You want to go and get rid of them then, Perce?" Bill suggested with a small grin, stopping any potential debates on the subject. "You must know some law that will get rid of them; just threaten to bury them in paperwork. You know — Death by Paper Cut."

"I'm sure I can deal with Rita," Percy said. After all, Rita could not be that bad; it was just knowing how to deal with her. He straightened his glasses once more before he gave Audrey another soft kiss on her cheek. "I'll see you in just a little while."

"There are more than a few," Audrey started.

"It will be fine," Percy finished as he approached the boundary to The Burrow.

Percy was aware that his sister was famous. Barely a weekend went by without her photo on either the front or back, sometimes both, pages of one of the wizarding publications. Usually it was the _Daily Prophet_'s sports pull-out on a Monday, which thankfully was at least sports related. However, he had nearly died of shock when the new Holyhead calendar (aimed at their male fans) had came out last December, with the players wearing some very revealing clothing. He also knew that his brother's girlfriend, Angelina Johnson, had pleaded with her in the summer and during Ginny's close season to come to the opening of Angelina's new shop in Diagon Alley which sold Quidditch memorabilia. Even Audrey had made comment about Ginny's fame when she had admitted that it was Ginny and George who were the siblings that she was most nervous to meet because they were the famous ones.

Still, on days like this, it all took him by surprise.

It had been only Ginny's second match for the Holyhead Harpies when her fame had started and her fame increased daily. Since he had not been present at the match, having to work that day, Ginny had had to explain the details over a family dinner; she had told them all very honesty that she hadn't actually played that well as she was still adapting to the physical nature of the professional game, claiming that the league was much much harder than Hogwarts Quidditch. She had learned that day, however, that unlike working at most jobs, slogging away for years and not getting recognised, in the world of sport, fame could come in an instant.

With the score of 410 to 260 to the Tutshill Tornadoes, Ginny had caught the Quaffle and was closing on goal just as both Seekers dived for the Snitch. Ginny had shot at goal and the Quaffle had flown through the hoop just a mere second before the Harpies Seeker had caught the Snitch, giving the Tornadoes no chance to reply. The freak occurrence, apparently the time had never been that close before in Harpies history, or happened in the rest of the league in well over a century, had meant that Ginny's single goal had won the game. The next morning, he woke to Ginny's picture being flashed all over the newspaper and the new phrase 'done a Weasley'. Now anytime anything was pulled off at the last minute, he would still hear the words, 'You've done a Weasley', much to George's amusement as he claimed that that phrase was already his after his exit from Hogwarts. However, as Ginny had later teased, he had only got a generation of Hogwarts students using the phrase, 'you've done a Weasley'; she'd got a whole country using it, so the phrase was now hers.

Yes, he knew his sister was a gifted and famous Quidditch player but it was, after all, just Quidditch. Despite the fact that he liked to watch the occasional game and even put on the odd bet, it was still just a sport, and he had grown up a lot since dancing around after Gryffindor's victory during his seventh year. There were more important things. He struggled to see how just a sport made rational people act completely irrationally at times and how a defeat or victory could change people's moods so drastically. In this respect he agreed completely with his Muggle-born girlfriend: Quidditch was really not that important in the grand scheme of things.

He guessed that was why he struggled to see Ginny as famous.

To him, Ginny would always be just Ginny, his little sister. He didn't suppose that it helped that Ginny really did her growing up, from child to teenager to adult, when he had been estranged from his family.

He had walked out on the family after that shameful fight when Ginny was still just thirteen. When he had then returned to see her at the Battle of Hogwarts, he was surprised by the fact that although she was underage, she was very opinionated, forceful and very much in love with Harry Potter of all people. She was very different that evening, much older than the thirteen she had been when he had walked out of The Burrow. Actually, she had looked and acted much older than sixteen; she was, and behaved, a hell of a lot older than most sixteen-year-olds he had known when he had been in his sixth year at Hogwarts. He had barely got used to the idea that Ginny really had grown up and actually was an adult, when she had announced her engagement to Harry, just a few days following her eighteenth birthday.

"Just one quote, please," a reporter called out, drawing Percy's attention back to the ever-growing knot of reporters standing on the other side of the charms that had been placed over The Burrow. "How do you feel about having Harry Potter as a brother-in-law?"

"Delighted," Percy replied both curtly and promptly. He wanted to get rid of these reporters as soon as possible and he hoped a few short answers would do that. After all, that tactic always seemed to work with the press conferences at the Ministry of Magic. "However," he said adopting an ever-so-slightly pompous and important tone, as if he was giving one of those press conferences now, "since this is a private function, a fact that we have made clear on many occasions, we would be highly grateful if you understood that and let it remain one."

Despite his reply, the question did have Percy thinking. It was the reply he was expected to give and, as such, he gave it. That was part of who he was and had always been, meeting the expectations that had clearly been set out for him. He was just not sure, given time to think about it, if he really did feel truly delighted about today's events.

He was naturally glad Ginny was happy but there was much more to it than that.

How did he honestly feel about having Harry as a brother-in-law?

Harry was his little brother's best friend, and had been for almost a decade, and he seemed to have a good relationship with the rest of his family. It was a better relationship than he had had and still did at times. His whole family had loved Harry from the second that he had walked into The Burrow. They had even taken his side in that argument. In hindsight, he knew he had been wrong in the fight but, at that time, it had hurt a lot that they had taken Harry's side over his, their son.

They had both, he and Harry, grown up a lot since then. He had come back to his family and been forgiven for his rather narrow-minded views and actions. Harry had gone on to be proven right and became the hero of wizarding Britain, and the Ministry had been found, much to his disbelief at the time, both wanting and highly corrupt. He had also been forgiven by Harry as well, who may have just come of age, but had acted like someone with far superior maturity as he chose not to rub Percy's nose in his mistakes. He had just let bygones be bygones, a fact for which Percy was highly grateful. If Harry had held a grudge, which he guessed he had had every right to do, he doubted that his family would have been as keen to welcome him back into the fold, particularly Ron and Ginny.

Ron had always jumped to Harry's side first. And Ginny, well, he had learnt over the last few years that Ginny would do anything for Harry, just as Harry would do anything for her.

Ginny would have sided with Harry any day over him; she loved Harry far too much.

So that should, without any doubt, make him the right man for her to be marrying. So yes, he loved his sister and if Harry sparked that reaction, then he really was delighted for them. They deserved the happiness that it provided, and they had worked hard enough to achieve it.

When it came to the reporters, Percy knew to expect them. He knew just how famous Harry's heroic deeds had made him.

He worked at the Ministry of Magic, just as Harry did, and knew just how many letters turned up each week. He remembered that first week Harry had turned up to the Auror Department after the war had finished and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named defeated. Reporters blocked entrances, asking anyone and everyone for a quote, making their jobs near-on impossible to do. Kingsley Shacklebolt had actually had to issue an official statement asking the reporters to leave the Ministry workers alone, saying that if the public wanted the Death Eaters that were still at large to be caught, they had to stop tracking, taking photos and asking the Aurors for quotes. Instead, these skilled witches and wizards should be left alone to do the vital work that they needed to do. Since that day, Harry was only generally seen in the tabloid photographs on weekends, particularly when he was kissing Ginny, as had happened last weekend.

They were, whether they liked it or not, the most famous couple in wizarding Britain. Being the hero of wizarding Britain and one of the hottest of Britain's Quidditch talents in a century, according to all reports — it was no wonder the press had a field day with them.

Yes, in hindsight, Percy really should have expected the number of reporters here, considering the high profile nature of many of the guests; there were just too many war heroes in the garden of The Burrow right now for them to resist. Hindsight was a truly wonderful thing and looking back, Percy realised that Harry had been right and he was a truly great match for his little sister.

He was very happy for them.


	9. Arthur Weasley & the Walk Down the Aisle

Chapter Eight: Arthur Weasley and the Walk Down the Aisle

Disclaimer: All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

Arthur pushed open the door to his daughter's room — his nineteen-year-old daughter, his baby girl. She was still far too young to get married. She was, in many ways, still his little girl and he had so many hopes and dreams for her. Even if she was positive that all her dreams had come true, he still wanted so much more for her. She had her dream job and was marrying the man she loved so, as she had put it when he had raised questions about whether she was too young, why should she wait for things to go wrong again? Especially after everything they had already been through. She felt that she should seize every moment that she could. While he couldn't help but agree with her and admire her spirit, he could not help feeling that a wait of a few years would not be too much to ask.

She was still too young, still just his little girl.

And more than that, he did not want to lose her yet, even if it was to Harry.

Selfishly, he still wanted to be the first person that she ran to and told all about her day. He wanted to be the first person that she smiled at in the morning. He wanted to be the person that she shared her jokes with. Deep down he knew that those days were long gone, but without the illusion of his daughter being married, he'd actually managed to delude himself from time to time.

Now all the delusions were going to be gone.

She really was of age, grown up and about to be married.

He paused and studied the room.

The room still looked the same as it had done for all those years of her growing up. It still had the same pale yellow coloured walls that they had painted it when Ginny was a baby. It still had Ginny's old Hogwarts trunk resting against the end of her bed, as if she'd just come home for the holidays, although most of the content had changed in it. It was the very bed that she had been sleeping in since she was five years old and had demanded that she needed a big girl bed. There was still the notice board with a mess of family photos, the U-Know-Poo flier that she had 'liberated' from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, her ticket to the Quidditch World Cup final and the scarlet and gold flag containing the Gryffindor lion. There were still the same posters on the wall, the Holyhead Harpies ones which, despite now playing for them, she had never got around to taking down, and the Weird Sisters one.

Everything in the room pointed to the fact that this was still a teenager's room. It was just as it had been while she had still been at school. It felt strange that everything was still the same, that there were still so many signs in here that his little girl was still that, a little girl; surely it should look like a different room today.

Yet there was one very, very noticeable difference in the room.

And that was Ginny herself.

"Ginny," Arthur said softly.

His little girl stopped looking out the window, the window whose sill she had sat on so many times, much to her mother's fear that one day she would fall, and turned round. Only, she did not look like his little girl anymore. She wasn't the little girl who had ridden on his shoulders nor was she the same little girl that he had tucked into bed and told _The Tales of Beadle the Bard_ fairy stories to. Neither was she the little girl whose problems could be solved with a kiss and a hug. The little girl who would follow him round the house had grown up. No, Ginny wasn't little anymore, she was far from it.

He could feel his heart pounding, swelling with every movement, pride filling his every cell.

Arthur watched as her white wedding dress swept across the floor. Ginny's long, vibrant red hair fell down her back; against others' suggestions, she had decided to wear it down, as that was how Harry liked it, and then there were those bright brown eyes that now looked straight back him. Every day she was growing to look more like her mother and that had never been the case more than today. If he didn't know better, he could have sworn he had just stepped back thirty years.

He had been aware that she had been growing to look like her mother over the last few years but was never sure when the transformation had started. When had she started to grow from that little girl into the beautiful woman who was now starting before him?

Arthur felt himself gulping. Today was going to be hard, but then, nothing with his highly spirited and opinionated daughter had ever been easy; she had made sure of that.

It had been hard enough to accept that she was growing up, let alone to watch her fight in a war, play professional Quidditch and, now, get married. It was hard not to look at her and just see his little girl who needed him staring back at him, the one who had used to fall over in the garden as she chased her brothers around and let him pick her back up. Those days were gone now. Instead, she had become this remarkable, brave, intelligent and beautiful young woman, a woman he felt humbled to know, let alone being able to say that she was his daughter. "Proud" was such an understatement when it came to describing her to people.

She was every part a match to Harry. A young man many wizards would give their wand arms to let their daughters marry. He was remarkable, brave and intelligent, as the _Daily Prophet _included every time they used his name in an article, and as everyone knew, the Hero of the Wizarding World. But he was also humble, witty and ever so caring. What was most important, and the reason he had no reason to object when Harry had asked his permission all those months ago, was that he loved his daughter with every single part of him and would not even think of looking at another witch.

Knowing all this, he knew that he should not be feeling nervous about letting her go, but reason was not playing a large role in how he was feeling at the moment.

"Hey, Dad," she whispered back just as softly, her voice barely carrying, as if she was slightly worried or nervous. "I was just, y'know, watching everyone, it's really getting going down there, it kinda looks like it really is ready to go. I'll have to remember to thank Mum for all her help later."

"She wouldn't have had it any other way, Ginny." He smiled at her as he spoke, remembering all the arguments of the last month in particular. Weasley women could be very hard to live with at times and Harry definitely had his work cut out for him. Maybe it was good that Ginny was marrying an Auror and not someone with a much more mild-mannered job. "And she has had a lot of fun, so don't let her tell you otherwise."

"I know," Ginny still spoke in the soft tones that sounded very strange coming out her mouth since she used the fiery ones so often, "still, it's pretty amazing."

"It is, and they are almost ready for the star attraction — they are almost ready for you," he smiled at her.

Ginny gulped. Obviously, he wasn't the only one feeling nervous today; her voice was even shaking a little. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Arthur crossed the small room and looked directly into her brown eyes. For a moment, brown and blue just met and no words were spoken — there wasn't any need for them. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. No, better than okay, I'm good. Actually, I guess I'm better than good, too." She smiled nervously as she let her words ramble together. "I mean, I've done things more scary than this, much scarier, much harder and I'm living every girl's dream today, right?"

Arthur returned her smile.

Ginny hardly ever showed nerves, and it was rather endearing and reassuring to see them now, that over the important things, even if they were good, she got a little nervous and scared. That, despite everything that she had been through, she could still feel those things in life that made it worth living. She had not been tainted or broken by the horrors that she had seen and was still, in some ways, the girl she was when Harry had first come to visit them all those years ago, before the opening of the Chamber of Secrets.

In many ways, Ginny was the headstrong, opinionated daughter that he'd raised of whom he was so, so proud. She may have faced Death Eaters, not fearing her own death, from the age of fourteen and organised a rebellion against them while she was still just sixteen, or spent her days hanging off her broomstick at up to two hundred feet in the air, or darting up and down the pitch at ever-increasing speeds, performing moves others would not have dared to (without taking into account the height and speed at which she played). She would have no qualms in standing up for herself or expressing her opinion, especially when it came to hexing one of her brothers, as everyone in the Weasley family knew only too well.

But in this way she was still very much his little girl.

She was still looking to him for help and advice, just like when she used to fall over and just like then, he could still pick her up, kiss her and make things better, even if she was wearing a wedding dress and not an over-sized, far-too-big, handed-down t-shirt (of the twins) and a pair of ripped jeans.

He took her hand and squeezed it. "It's okay to be nervous, Ginny."

"It is?" Ginny questioned in a quiet voice.

Arthur smiled. "Of course it is." His smile grew as he continued. "Everyone feels nervous on their wedding day and as long as the answer is 'yes' to the question, 'Do you love him?', then you have nothing to worry about." He looked directly into her eyes, letting his blue eyes meet her bright brown ones. "Do you love Harry?"

"Yes," she whispered instantly and her smile lit up her whole face as if the September sun was shining directly on it.

He had already known the answer to that question.

Almost as he had watched her turn into a woman, he had watched the stages of her growing in love, unable to stop the feeling of devastating pain or sheer joy as things had changed. He had witnessed the pains of an unrequited love and the school girl crush. He had watched her mature and let friendship show Harry who she really was, much to everyone's relief. Then he'd seen them fall in love, before watching her suffer for that year that he was gone, heard that pained cry as she thought Harry had died, and seen the look of sheer desperation as she fought back, reckless and broken against any Death Eater she could. Those images still haunted him at times. He had seen the nervous reunion and that spark of love as it had grown, as she finally, after so long, saw Harry again. He only needed to watch the pair of them for a second to know that she was in love.

Arthur couldn't help letting his smile grow yet again and beam back at her. He loved watching her smile like that. The simple act of smiling, her true smile, would light up her whole face, making it look as radiant as if a million suns had set on it. The flecks of amber would sparkle with emotion in the bright brown eyes.

She reminded him of her mother so much with that smile — both so beautiful.

"And would you do anything for him?" he asked, although he already knew the answer to that question as well.

He had seen her face when she thought Harry had been killed. She would have done anything. He had watched as she ran at Bellatrix Lestrange, seen the look of sheer desperation. She would do anything for him. He had seen the elation as she had watched and had seen him victorious, and seen that look of pure joy as she ran to him.

They may not have known it then, but he had seen it. She would have done anything for him and something that night had worried him so much. He had half been expecting her to die for him and there had never been any doubt in his mind that Harry would do anything for her; he knew that from the minute that the news had broken that Harry had 'dumped' her. He'd lost her to Harry that very night — when, looking on, he could easily see that it was Harry who was the one that she loved with everything she had and the fact that she would marry him had become inevitable right then amongst all the pain, loss and suffering their love had sparked.

If Harry had been willing to let her go, Arthur could think of no better man to trust his daughter to, especially since she was so much in love with him.

"Of course I would." Ginny's smile, if possible, had grown wider.

"Then, as hard as it is for me to say this anymore…" Emotion was welling inside him and the tone of his voice was ringing with it. "…you are not my little girl anymore, you've grown up, and I'm so proud of the woman that you have become. You're ready."

Ginny's cheeks flushed a bright red, matching her hair as she stuttered, "Thanks, Dad. It's still a little weird though."

"How so?"

"I'm about to become a Potter," she paused on the word, "the whole show is about to start, but despite all that, and I believe you about the love, I'm not sure I'm ready."

"How so?" he pushed her softly, encouraging her to continue with his smile.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to stop being a Weasley." Again, she paused on the word. "I've been one all my life, it's my name and it seems weird to be giving that up. I'm not sure I want to be a Potter over a Weasley, no matter how much I love Harry."

"Even with a surname of Potter," Arthur could not stop his smile growing; she really had nothing to worry about with this, "you are never going to stop being a Weasley."

He looked at her again, studying her. Her blush had added to the bronze tones and freckles she had gained from a career spent outdoors and a season that had started this year in brilliant summer sun, making her colour look even more vibrant.

The pride was growing in him so much he thought that if it could it would have exploded out of him.

He held up his hand. "There's just one more thing I need to say before we head down there."

"Yeah?" she said softly.

He grinned at her. "You have never looked more beautiful than you do today."

"Dad," she offered in protest.

"I'm very serious, Ginny," he said as he took her hand in his, "you look stunning, just as your mother did on her wedding day."

She glanced downwards, blushing again. "Thanks, Dad."

He smiled at her, flushed with pride. He wanted this moment to last forever, just the two of them, the proud father and his little girl.

"So, are you ready?" he finally asked, after what seemed like an eternity but was probably just a few seconds in reality.

"Almost," Ginny said as she reached for the bouquet of flowers, before pausing again as this time she met his eyes, "just promise me you'll stop me from tripping as we walk."

He let out a small laugh, before smiling at her. "It's the least I can do."

"Okay." Ginny studied her reflection for one final time and moved a strand of hair out her face. "So, you ready to give me away, Dad?"

"I'll never be ready for that." Arthur took her hand in his. "But I am ready for today, because I don't think you could have done any better than Harry if you waited until you were a hundred and ninety-one."

Ginny shrugged. "Well, he is the hero of the wizarding world, so I guess you're right."

"He's more than that and you know it," Arthur told her. "That's not the Harry you know, that we know; he's the boy who loves you and, more importantly, I trust would do anything for you. I can't think of a better man for my only daughter to be marrying."

"Thank you, Daddy."

Arthur's face glowed with pride. "Well, let's get you down there."

"And you're not going to let me fall?" Ginny asked again, this time smiling herself.

"Not at all."

They headed downstairs and were met by Hermione and Luna in pale blue, ankle-length bridesmaid dresses. After brief smiles and exchanges, they slowly made their way outside to the marquee that had been erected at The Burrow.

Harry was standing at the end of the short aisle, Ron standing next to him.


	10. Epilogue: Mr and Mrs Potter

Epilogue: Mr and Mrs Potter

Disclaimer: All characters, places, spells and objects that are in JKR's books are hers. I do not own them. I am just having fun playing in her sandbox for a while.

Harry turned to look up the aisle and watched, utterly mesmerised, as Ginny walked down hand-in-hand with her dad. She gave him a shy smile which he returned a little nervously.

He could not take his eyes off her. He knew that he had smarted up in his new dress robes, and even his hair looked less messy than normal, but Ginny looked nothing short of breathtaking. The white dress she wore hugged her shapely hips, flared out and traced along the floor as she moved. The delicate embroidery hooked around her neck and down to its low-cut neckline, highlighting her décolletage. And he was so glad that she had chosen to wear her hair down. He knew that another fight had taken place over it due to Ginny's rants, but he loved her like this, her vibrant red hair had always been his favourite feature — along with those deep, soulful brown eyes — and the look today was stunning. There was no wonder she had been a pin-up in the Quidditch magazine the other week, not to mention that calendar — which had tempted him to use all the money in his vault to stop them going out to the general public.

She was nothing short of striking.

But even more amazing than that was the fact that she had agreed to marry him. She was so beautiful — that was a given — but her passion made her stunning, making her look much more beautiful than any Veela. She radiated energy. Her smile could lift him on even his gloomiest days and it had done so many times. Her laugh was infectious, her bravery second to none. And her kisses, still to this day, each one of them sent shivers down his spine.

And she had agreed to marry him.

Surely he had to be the luckiest man ever to live to have her by his side.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he replied in an equally quiet voice, "you ready?"

She gently nodded her head. "Yeah, you?"

"Yeah," he muttered back.

As they turned to the old wizard who had presided over both Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding, he felt his nerves kick in. Marrying Ginny in the abstract seemed like everything he had ever and could ever want. Marrying Ginny in reality was nerve-racking. It was so hard to see himself as some grown-up with actual responsibility. So much of him felt so far from that, but Ginny's smile and the swell in his heart seemed to make up for it.

Surely this could not be hard. He could do anything as long as she was at his side, holding his hand. Bill was right; there was really no need to be nervous when it came to Ginny. She just seemed to complete him. It was no wonder that when he held her, their bodies intertwined and fitted together so well.

He did note, though, that Ginny seemed to be answering much more quietly than she normally did. Maybe, just maybe, she was just as nervous as he was today. It wasn't like her to be nervous, but since she seemed to be today, he guessed it made sense. This was yet another way that she was his equal.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur and he was positive that he would not be able to repeat it if he was asked to. Sure, he knew how he felt and he could remember each movement that Ginny had made, but the words seemed unimportant. Compared to his feelings, they were nothing, nothing important, just part of the show. The words that mattered would be the ones they spoke to each other later when they were not just repeating what they were asked to.

He was aware of the hugs that greeted them as soon as they had been bonded together. Ginny's parents were naturally the first to engulf them, followed by Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville, before the rest of Ginny's brothers hugged her and shook his hand, issuing welcomes to the family while teasing Ginny about no longer being a Weasley.

They broke away from the knot of people gathered around them as the music started. As Harry led Ginny out onto the dance floor, he became all too well aware of another well-performed Ginny act. Despite her confident smiles and her words, her hand shook in his; she was nervous.

As they got out on the dance floor, her hand relaxed in his, but now Harry found his own nerves mounting again, even if Ginny's tension seemed to have eased, and he was exceptionally grateful that Bill had taken him out for dance lessons with Julia. Ginny seemed to have a natural talent for dancing that he did not have, but at least today, he seemed to be able to dance with her instead of being pulled around the dance floor as had happened at the Yule Ball, not that he minded when Ginny pulled him around. That normally led to highly desirable consequences.

The dancing went on for hours and the party lasted well into the early hours. It was only when he had danced with Hermione, Luna and Mrs Weasley, and he had watched Ginny being passed from Mr Weasley, to each of her brothers and Neville, that a thought finally occurred to him. The honeymoon may have been postponed due to Ginny's match on Sunday, but if they didn't leave soon, they were not going to get much of a wedding night.

They'd had this debate so many times. Both of them knew that Ginny's season started in August and ran into May. If they wanted a long honeymoon, they were going to have to get married in the close season, but there had been something about getting married on the first of September that very much appealed to both of them. It had been the very day they had first met, and when they had learnt that the Quidditch fixtures had been kind to them, partly due to most matches taking place on Saturdays and Sundays, the date had been set. Then the fact that the Holyhead Harpies' match against the Montrose Magpies was on Sunday, due to it being the featured match on the Wizarding Wireless, had just helped them further, especially since Ginny had somehow worked a minor miracle and got herself excused from Saturday's training session as well as today's.

All that being said — they still wanted a wedding night and had a room set aside for the occasion tonight, and he very much wanted to use that room.

He crossed the dance floor and went back to where Ginny was dancing, this time twirling in her father's arms.

"Mr Weasley," he started.

"Arthur, Harry," he corrected with a smile. "It really is time you got used to calling me Arthur."

"Arthur," Harry corrected himself, "mind if I borrow Ginny?"

Arthur smiled at him as he placed Ginny's hand in his as Molly appeared at his side instantly, sensing their departure.

"Not at all" Arthur told him as his hand slipped into his wife's.

Ginny stood up on her tiptoes and kissed her father, letting her heels drop back to the floor to kiss her mother. "See you later, Dad, Mum."

Arthur smiled at his daughter. "Behave yourself and stay away from the press."

Ginny's eyes twinkled and Harry found the familiar look of mischief sparkling in the amber of her brown eyes. "Will do. We have absolutely no intention of letting anyone near us until I have to leave for the match."

"And we'll see you at The Burrow afterwards for dinner," Molly told them.

"Yeah, we'll be here," Ginny grinned, "especially since I won't have to look at seating plans again."

"At least not until you have to be Hermione's bridesmaid," Harry laughed.

"Funny," Ginny said softly as her hand reached down to her wand.

"Do you really want to discuss this here and now?" he whispered in her ear as if sharing a secret. He let his lips linger on her neck for a brief second before continuing, "I really want you to myself right now."

She let herself be led away from the crowds. Harry found himself smiling as she let him take control; he always had a lot of fun when Ginny let him take control. It looked like Ginny was going to be open to any of his suggestions tonight, not that she normally took much persuading. It was she, after all, who had suggested that he bring his handcuffs home from the Ministry this weekend.

"You ready to leave, Mrs Potter?"

She smiled softly. "That's going to take some getting used to."

"Well, I intend to use it a lot, so you should be used to it by the morning." He kissed her softly on the lips before pulling away. "I like calling you Mrs Potter."

She leaned in and kissed him back, one of her teasing kisses that left him wanting so much more than she had yet given. She really could be evil in that respect, but he guessed he deserved it for the way he had kissed her.

Ginny gave him a radiant smile as she whispered in his ear, "And I think I'm going to like hearing it."

He scooped her into his arms, the dress trailing on the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think we need to get the wedding night really started, Mrs Potter."

Fin

Author's Note:

Once again a big thank you goes to my brilliant beta, Gerry, for her work on this as well as everyone else who has read, reviewed and hopefully enjoyed this piece. I hope you have had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

This fiction marks my retirement from the world of fan fiction as I attempt to write my original fiction. Thank you for everyone's time and support over the years.

Thank you.


End file.
